


Dry Eyes

by sinistralScribe



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Alternate Universe - Vampire, I warned you 'bout feels, I warned you bro, M/M, Now Boarding the Feels Train, Vampirestuck, grab some tissues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 01:02:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 43,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2753744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinistralScribe/pseuds/sinistralScribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave Strider was most definitely not fine. In fact, he was pretty sure he had just woken up at the scene of his own murder.</p><p>(Bonus Terezi Title: Corpses Don't Cry)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wake

\--turntechGodhead **[TG]** began pestering ectoBiologist **[EB]** at 04:13--

TG: john

TG: dude wake up

TG: john are you there

TG: i am unironically flipping my motherfucking shit right now

TG: john

EB: woah dave!

EB: you never type like this.

EB: im here man, im here. what’s going on? it’s like 4am.

EB: you okay?

TG: something happened

TG: are you alright?

EB: what? what happened?

EB: yeah, of course im fine

EB: are you okay? i can come check on you man

TG: NO no, it’s okay

TG: i can get back

EB: you’re LOST? Dave, what the hell is going on?

TG: i just needed someone to talk to i guess

TG: and im not lost

TG: just freaked out there for a sec

TG: im chill dude, don’t worry

EB: im not all that convinced dave. you have basically never opened a conversation like this

EB: like, ever

EB: and if I may reiterate, it is 4 in the morning

EB: so im sure you understand my skepticism that you are “chill”

TG: im fine

TG: don’t worry about it

EB: ....

EB: okay, just tell me when you make it home, alright?

TG: yeah sure

\--turntechGodhead  **[TG]**  ceased pestering ectoBiologist  **[EB]** at 04:20--

Dave Strider was most definitely not fine. In fact, he was pretty sure he had just woken up at the scene of his own murder.

_EARLIER…_

It was hot as balls in Texas, which didn't stop Dave from wearing his favorite long sleeved red and white shirt, not that he would admit to having a favorite shirt. That would be a breach of character. His bro taught him better than that. If there’s no secret, there’s no irony. Dirk had been gone for a few days, flying to someplace in California for some puppet smut meeting or whatever. Dave didn’t really care. They had an understanding. If his bro came back to a trashed apartment, Dave would never come back to the apartment, period. Dave doubted the threat was all that serious. It was more likely Dirk would make him clean the whole place using puppet butts as sponges.

Dave wasn’t really interested in hanging out alone in the apartment with all the fucking creepy ass puppets anyway. He had spent most of the last couple days hanging at John’s place in the suburbs. John lived in a normal house with a normal dad. No mom, but whatever, at least the place wasn’t chalk full of puppet rump. The Crosby pictures were a little weird though. Dave figured it was just impossible for people to be totally normal, except maybe John. The only thing strange about John was how goddamn nice he was. He claimed to be some master prankster, but Dave saw almost all of the ploys coming from miles away, and he was pretty sure he could tell Egbert he had proof of aliens or some shit and the guy would believe him. He probably wouldn’t pull such a fast one in person though. He hated seeing John’s goofy face all disappointed and sad like that.

He was in love with the guy, after all. Too bad John was clueless about it.

They sat on the couch, watching Con Air for the third day in a row. Well, it was really background noise at this point. This was also the third day in a row Dave had tried to work up a spine and ask John out. The conversation had shifted from direct commentary on the movie to John’s existential interpretation of the rabbit’s symbolism.

“So yeah, I’m pretty sure the bunny is like, the embodiment of innocence or something,” John proclaimed. “Like, it gets dirtier and dirtier the more shit goes down, but in the end it’s still something that’s important and special.”

Dave laughed. “Dude, you are reading way too much into this movie.”

“It is my theory, and I’m sticking to it.” John crossed his arms in obstinacy. Then he got a challenging gleam in his eye. “What’s your theory, Mr. Irony?”

Dave rolled his eyes behind his shades. “It’s just a stupid rabbit the guy latched onto because it was a present for his kid, dude. You wanna know my  _real_  theory? About you and this movie?”

John gave him an onto-your-bullshit look. “And what, exactly, is it this time? That Buscemi was the main character all along?”

“That’s actually not bad,” Dave said. “But no. I think…you’ve got a mad crush on Cage. All that manliness, the wife beater, the sweat, the hair, the challenged southern accent. It’s obvious man, you are mad homo for some Cage booty.”

John’s response was predictable, as usual, but Dave caught just the smallest hesitation before the adamant denial. “Dave, we’ve been over this like five times in the past three months; I am not homosexual.”

“Whatever man,” Dave gave a defeated sigh. He was so tired of hearing that. “Whatever. I gotta get back to my place.” He jumped off the couch and made his way to the door.

“You’re walking home in the dark?” John sounded worried.

“Yeah, so? I can handle myself,” Dave assured him, refusing to look back.

“Dave, it’s like an hour-long walk,” John protested. “I can give you a ride.”

“Nah man,” Dave insisted. “I gotta brainstorm some comic shit. Walking’s supposed to be good for that kinda thing.” He slammed the door behind him.

He didn’t even play his music as he walked. He was too busy listening to John’s denials over and over again in his head. He had known the guy for most of his life. They literally just graduated high school together a month ago. Not once had John been able to admit it, even though his little crush on that one swim team guy back in sophomore year had been painfully obvious. Come to think of it, Dave had never admitted it either. He had even dated Jade for a while. She got wise to his shit, but she never told anyone. The attitude in their school wasn’t what you would call…tolerant. It didn’t matter; Dave still felt like a damn coward. Every time he decided to just own up to the fucking truth, he bailed at the last second. Probably because John would just turtle like he always had and then just avoid him. It might drive Dave up the wall to be just John’s friend, but being completely alone was not on the table.

He was passing by the park when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned his head casually, but didn’t see anyone there. Figures his mind would be messing with him. He sighed and tried to actually come up with some ideas for his shitty comic. A few steps later, and he was sure he heard someone laughing softly, just over his shoulder. He turned faster this time, fists raised, but again, there was nothing behind him but sidewalk. Now the laugh came from the direction he had been heading, louder this time, more open. It was a woman’s voice.

Dave whirled around as fast as he could. This time he saw her. She was wearing a black dress with a gaudy blue spider web pattern running all over it. She flashed a smile at him. “Take him.”

A hand clasped over Dave’s mouth from behind, and another wrapped around his right arm and torso, pinning him against the attacker’s body. He tried to pull away the hand muffling his shouts with his free arm, but this fucker’s arms might as well have been made of steel. The guy holding him in the vice grip just chuckled. Dave kicked him in the shin on principle.

“Hey!” The man hissed indignantly. “Easy on the pants, blood bag!”

He roughly pulled Dave through the park, not bothering to shield his captive from getting scratched by stray branches on the way through the foliage. The woman in the obnoxious cobweb dress followed smoothly, amused with the procession. The park connected to the actual woods, and judging by the time that seemed to pass, they had taken Dave a good mile out of earshot of the nearest non-murderous person. Finally, the pissy guy threw Dave to the ground, knocking the wind out of his lungs.

Dave had been in fight or flight mode for about twenty minutes now, but he was almost certain he had no chance of outrunning these freaks. He certainly wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of pleading for his life either. He finally a got a look at the guy who was strong enough to just yank him around like a ragdoll. He looked like a complete tool with his vertical striped pants and chunk of dyed hair in the middle of his head. He was clearly not carrying the muscle mass that logically came along with the strength he had demonstrated.

“All right,” Dave said. “You dragged me out here to murder me. Get it over with already. I don’t beg.”

The spidery woman laughed. “Good. Only dogs beg,” she said with admiration. “But we didn’t go through all this trouble to kill you.” She offered him a small thermos.

Dave made no move for the container. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound like bullshit at all.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “It’s not poison.” She opened the lid and held it so Dave could see some of the contents drip into her mouth.

“Yeah, don’t be such a baby,” the hipster strongman added. “As if we’d bother with poison anyway.”

“It’s a peace offering.” The creepy woman held out the container again.

This time Dave took it, but he didn’t drink from it. The woman scowled. He wasn’t going to play her stupid games. He moved to dump out whatever was inside. Before he could turn his hand over, the cup was yanked from his hands, and the jerk with the purple hair patch was pinning him up against a tree.

“I guess we aren’t doing this the easy way,” the woman said with fake regret. She popped the lid off the thermos and began to approach. “You could have just bought our lies, you know.” What the hell were these sick fucks doing? The woman reached out and pinched Dave’s nose, shoving the drink into his mouth with the other. Dave coughed and gurgled, trying to spit it out, but he had no other way to breathe. A fair portion of it made its way down his esophagus. It was cold, sweet, and metallic.

“My turn?” The man asked eagerly. He had a bloodthirsty look in his eyes.

“Not just yet,” crooned the woman. “I want to see what we’re stealing away.” She gingerly lifted Dave’s shades from his face. She grabbed his chin and stared into his eyes with her disturbingly bright blue ones. “Such a soft, chocolate color,” she commented, but she was looking through him now, or more accurately, to Dave’s horror, into him. He started to see foggy images of memories. The stupid bib his bro had made of some unfortunate pony, getting flash-step scared by Cal, his first shitty sword, and getting his Stiller shades from John.

“Get out of my head,” Dave yelled, giving the bitch a kick in the gut for good measure. The memories cut off.

Though she barely reacted to the kick, the bitch looked infuriated at the severed connection. She quickly collected herself, throwing on a vicious smile. She carefully tucked Dave’s shades into the collar of his shirt. “He’s all yours.” She patted her partner on the shoulder and sauntered away, brushing the dirt off her dress.

The man in the ridiculous striped pants rolled his eyes. “Finally,” he muttered. “Did we mention we were lying about killing you?” He grinned and grabbed both sides of Dave’s head. There was a cracking noise, then darkness.

_NOW…_

Dave woke up in the middle of the forest, alone. His shades were still hooked into his collar where the woman had placed them.  _John_ …the bitch saw John when she was inside his head! He yanked his phone from his pocket and opened his Pesterchum.

\--turntechGodhead **[TG]**  began pestering ectoBiologist  **[EB]**  at 04:13--

TG: john

TG: dude wake up

TG: john are you there

(Continues as seen at the chapter’s beginning.)


	2. Nightmare

After confirming John was safe, Dave leaned back against a tree trunk for support. His neck was sore and his clothes were busted up as hell. He rotated his head a bit, feeling relief when his neck gave a loud _pop!_ He felt cold, but all the way through, like some ninety year old with shit circulation. Whatever liquid the psychos had force-fed him was caked on his chin. He grabbed a couple of innocuous-looking leaves and tried to rub the shit off. It was resistant and crusty, but eventually his face felt clean enough.

He looked at the color on the leaves and froze at what he saw. The color was hard to mistake for anything besides dried blood. He hastily dropped the leaves and wiped his hand on his jeans. He looked down at his shirt; the white fabric was stained dark red where his spluttering had caused the blood to drip. He had to get out of those clothes, like now.

Dave picked himself up and brushed off the back of his jeans. He could see the glow of the city not too far away, and began jogging to it. _4 am,_ John had said. Dave had left John’s house around eight in the evening. He had lost almost eight hours. He remembered striped pants guy grabbing his head and…the cracking sound. It had been his neck. _Oh god,_ Dave thought. _Did I actually die?_ He certainly didn’t feel like a ghost. He was able to talk to John…He didn’t want to think about it. He just wanted to get home to his apartment. Damn if the familiar sight of disturbing puppet ass wasn’t sounding fucking awesome right about now. He upgraded from a jog to a run.

Nobody was awake in his neighborhood to give him weird stares as he dashed down the streets in a bloodstained shirt. At this hour, the only hint of the sun was a slightly less black section of sky to the east. If he weren’t so busy panicking, it might have struck Dave as odd that he had been running for half an hour without getting tired. Nor did he notice that his pace of breathing was barely existent. Finally, he reached his building. Forsaking the elevator for the stairs, he practically jumped up the few flights to his hallway. He frantically dug his keys from his pocket and shoved the key in with more dexterity than he would have expected as an emotional wreck.

He slammed the door behind him and pulled out his phone. He sent John the text: “the eagle has landed. you may now calm your tits.” Then Dave tossed the phone somewhere into his room. He would worry about finding it later. Right now, he had to get the fuck out of his ruined clothes and take a hot, real, very _not_ dead shower. He tossed his shades in the sink and shrugged out of his rags. He shoved them in the trashcan, making a mental note to burn that shit later, and jumped into the warm running water.

In addition to desperately wanting to clean up and prove to himself that he wasn’t a fucking ghost, Dave was intensely thirsty after the long run home. He spent half the shower just drinking the hot flowing water, wondering why he was just really thirsty instead of his legs being tired from running for so long...Come to think of it, had he even been panting from that run when he ran through the door? He shook his head and tried to think of shit that wasn’t so goddamn weird. Even after guzzling all that choice tap water, he was still thirsty as fuck. Damn his throat felt dry.

He decided he was clean enough; time for some cold, quenching aj. That’s apple juice, to the folks who are slower on the uptake. He grabbed his towel and quickly dried himself off, then flipped the switch to the fan that sucked up the steam. He was pretty sure it was supposed to be running during actual shower time, but like he gave a fuck. He grabbed some clothes from his room and quickly returned to the warmth of the bathroom. He still felt cold, even though he was pretty certain the water temperature should have been scalding him. He slid into his jeans and yanked a red hoodie on over his t-shirt. He had just gotten his second arm through its sleeve when he started to register something strange about his reflection.

The glass was still too fogged to tell for sure, so he reluctantly wiped at it with his sleeve and leaned in close. His new eyes looked back at him fearfully, almost glowing ruby red in the dark.

The dark? Wait a fucking minute, he could see just fine. How could it be dark? He looked over to the pair of light switches on the wall. The one for the steam fan was switched up, but the actual light switch remained indisputably oriented downward. The tiny “OFF” was visible on the switch. He reached over and flipped it up. The sudden bright light was no more discomforting than usual, but his eyes adjusted almost instantaneously. He stared at himself for a long time, until his brain started to come to a very unwelcome conclusion about the change in eye color. He shoved his shades onto his face and tore his gaze away from his reflection.

He walked to his room and grabbed the bottle of apple juice he had stowed away. He opened it and started to chug. Somehow, the hot shower water had tasted better. He downed the entire bottle stubbornly, regardless of his complete fucking indifference to the taste. He reevaluated the dry feeling in his throat. He stared at the empty bottle. Nope, the innards of his neck still felt increasingly like the fucking Mojavi. It took him a few seconds to notice he had crushed the sturdy plastic in his mounting panic. He dropped the warped container and just stood there, staring at his hand.

His ringtone shook him out of his stupor. He picked his phone off the floor and saw it was John calling him. He couldn’t take this right now. He needed to stop panicking and just think. He turned the phone off completely and sank onto his bed. Okay, so he had almost definitely had his neck broken by some asshole with stupid hair and a psycho spider bitch. All right. They had shoved blood into his system right before for some fucking reason. Check. He had woken up a handful of hours after his death, still corporeal, sore, cold, and thirsty. Yeah. He had run over two miles with no change in pace, breathing, or heart rate. Correct. He put his hand on his chest and waited, doing his best to relax. _Thump-bump_ …waaaay too many fucking seconds… _thump-bump._ Okay. There was literally only one way he knew of to be absolutely sure about his guess.

On the bright side, pun completely intended, the sun would be up very soon. He wouldn’t have to wait long to find out if he was right. So he tried his best to ignore the pressing discomfort in his esophagus, and he waited.

_ELSEWHERE…_

Rose Lalonde was not accustomed to having many dreams at all. Whenever she did, they managed to somehow be related to happenings in her life, though never highly relevant. She tended to write them off as her subconscious calculating likely outcomes that happened to be correct on occasion. Tonight was different. She was possessed of absolute certainty that she had just been the only witness to the murder of her friend, Dave Strider.

She woke up sitting straight as a board in her bed, covered in sweat. She could feel her pulse throbbing in her ears, but the cracking sound of Dave’s neck was still replaying loud and clear inside her head. She threw off her covers and flicked on her bedside lamp, scrambling for her phone. She was too terrified to call Dave and fail to get a response, so she called John instead.

The phone rang a few times, then John’s cheerful voice came across the line. “What’s up Rose? Isn’t it kinda late for you over there?”

“That’s not important, John,” Rose said as calmly as she could. “Have you heard from Dave?”

“Yeah he was just over at my place.” John hesitated then said, “But I think I might have upset him. He left kind of abruptly. He wouldn’t even let me give him a ride home.”

“How long ago was this?” Rose asked.

“Like maybe half an hour or so? What’s wrong Rose?”

Rose heard a few thumping, tumbling sounds echo through her house. Apparently her mother had not gone to bed yet, much less sobered up.

“I-I just had a nightmare is all,” she finally replied.

“Rose, don’t worry, this is Dave we’re talking about. He’ll be fine. I wouldn’t let him walk home all alone otherwise.”

Rose took a deep breath. “I suppose you’re right. Will you at least check in with him soon and let me know he’s alright?’

“No problem, Rose. I talk to him like, all the time anyways. Get some sleep; you sound super freaked right now.”

“I will.” She ended the call and went to get a glass of water from the kitchen.

When Rose reached the living room, she stopped and stared open-mouthed at the state of it. Her mother was busy packing multiple suitcases. A pile of her green power supply boxes was heaped on the couch, next to a pair of rifles that looked to Rose to have some serious firepower.

“Mom, what are you doing, exactly?” Rose asked cautiously.

Her mother whirled around at the sound of Rose’s voice. Her eyes were red, and her face was tear-streaked.

“Mom, what’s wrong?!”

Her mother’s face seemed to be battling between expressions of rage and grief. “They killed him, Rosey. They fucking _killed him!”_

“You saw it too?” Rose was shocked.

“Oh my God, honey.” Her mother’s eyes went wide. “You…you _saw_ this happen?” She ran over to embrace Rose. “I’m so sorry you had to wake up this way.” She stroked Rose’s hair.

“What do mean wake up?”

“I got a lotta explainin’ to do,” her mother managed through a few hiccups. “An’ I promise I will. We got plenty of time on the trip to talk.”

“Trip?”

“Yes, honey,” Roxy said. Her expression became grim. “We’re ending the motherfuckers that hurt my boy. Now go pack yer shit, we got some driving to do. I’ll explain on the way.”

“Mom, you’re drunk,” Rose pointed out.

“Well, no sheet Sherluck,” Roxy replied. “Yer drivin’ first shift.”


	3. Curse

Dave had checked the time of sunrise online and lost patience. He was _not_ waiting another fucking hour for the damn thing to come up. He realized a few minutes into waiting that there was another way to tell for sure if he was…okay, fuck it, _yes_ , to tell if he was a vampire. It was pretty damn easy: pocket knife, tiny slice, observe effects. Boom. Done. So…what was the hold up? It was probably the very real possibility that the wound was going to seal back up in a matter of seconds and launch him into another panic attack.

Urgh, he was so tired of being a little bitch about this. Even if it were true, at the very least he was still himself. No hardcore soulless inhabited-by-a-demon-now shit. He had the stupid knife in his hand. It’s not like it would even hurt. Just…FUCK IT. He ran the small blade along the end of his thumb.

A bit of blood escaped from the small incision. Dave wiped away the initial blob to get a better look at the cut. It was already neatly sealing itself, even pulling back the second round of blood that would have otherwise kept flowing. He rubbed his thumb along the rest of fingers. It didn’t even feel sore. “Fuuuuck,” Dave moaned. He pulled his curtains over the window. Good thing he had thick canvas ones thanks to his embarrassing dark room days. He slumped face-first onto his bed. “Fuuuuck,” he repeated into the pillow.

He heard the door to the apartment open. Oh shit, how was his bro going to take this? Probably in his stupid, predictably stoic manner, just like everything. The guy was the head of a fucking smuppet company; how disturbing could this be? Hey Bro, I’m a vampire now. That’s nice Dave. Don’t eat the neighbors. Go to the fucking butcher shop and get some pig’s blood like a goddamn gentleman. Dave laughed a little at his imaginary dialogue. He swung his feet over the side of the bed, bracing for the annoying, irony-imbued conversation.

“Dave?” John’s voice called through the apartment.

Dave nearly fell off his bed in shock. _Oh no._ He thought. _Oh no, oh fuck, what do I do?_

John was pretty much the opposite of a stoic motherfucker. How the fuck was Dave supposed to explain this to him? It was too late to bail. John was knocking on his bedroom door. _Fuck fuck fuck FUCK_. Damn that idiot for needing to check on him. He made sure his shades were on straight and got up to open his bedroom door. Slowly, he cracked it open to see a sliver of John’s worried face.

“Dave!” John looked happy just to see his friend upright. The guy was a regular bleeding heart. “Rose called me kinda panicked, so I said I’d check on you for her, but you weren’t answering your phone.” There was a faint drumming sound coming from somewhere. John tilted his head, concerned. “Dude, can I come in? You’re being really weird.” Dave didn’t reply, but opened the door a little more, poking his shaded head out. Shit, what was he supposed to say? John looked worried at the lack of response. “Sorry I barged in. I was just freaking out.” The drumming sound was louder now, a little faster than before. John was blushing with embarrassment. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Dave began to understand the drumming. How its cadence matched John’s emotions. He pulled his head back into his room. “I’m fine,” he lied. He took in a breath, not realizing he had been holding it, and immediately wished he hadn’t. It was like he had caught a whiff of his favorite dessert, main course, and snack all at once, but magnified by a thousand. The smell made his throat suddenly feel like a goddamn bonfire. _Oh fuck, no._ He thought. “John, just go home. I’m alright.”

John tried to peer through the crack in the door, taking a few steps closer. The drumming—no, Dave knew it was the sound of John’s heartbeat—got louder. It was like a symphony playing in his ears.

“Dave, I really don’t think you’re alright.” He placed a hand on the door, but Dave resisted his light push.

“John,” Dave began in a raspy voice, and another wave of that wonderful smell hit his nose. He could almost taste it on his tongue. His throat was burning more and more. _I can’t hurt him. I have to get rid of him._ “John, GO HOME!” He tried his best to yell angrily, but his whole body was shaking with panic. He knew he should slam the door in John’s face, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t cut off that smell. It was so strong. He felt a strange itch in his gums, almost like a tickle, as two fangs slid downward. _No. No no nonononono…_

“Dave, I’m your friend, and you are clearly not okay right now.” John said sternly. “Now you are going to drop the bullshit and talk to me, damn it!” He stubbornly shoved the door open.

Dave had been too distracted with trying to keep hold of his own mind to resist John’s sudden force. The scent—John’s scent—hit him like a tsunami. He couldn’t take it anymore. He felt his hands reach out. John thought it was a hug, walked into them like the complete trusting doofus he was. For a brief moment, Dave tried to pull himself away, but then his sense of touch registered; he could feel the heartbeat through John’s skin. He pulled John closer, trying to fight himself, but his muscles wouldn’t listen. _It’s right here_ , his body seemed to be screaming. His throat felt like someone had shoved hot coals into it.

John yelped at the intensity of Dave’s grip. “Ow! Dave! Take it easy.”

The pain and the smell were over-powering. Shit, they were _everything._ Dave couldn’t feel his eyes water, but he was definitely crying. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and he sank his teeth into John’s neck.

_MEANWHILE…_

“You sure that’s what you saw, honey?” Roxy asked.

Rose nodded. “A ruthless woman obsessed with spiders, and a man in ridiculous pants with a whiny attitude.”

Her mother smiled in that sinister way she had developed since the trip started. “Good. I finally get to shut that bitch down.”

“Do you plan on doing any actual explaining about this? Beyond the fact that our family has the ‘Seer majyyks’ and Dave is actually my brother?”

“Twin, sweetie. _Twin._ ” Roxy sighed. “Long story short, I stole something the spider cunt wanted _real bad_ about 18 years ago. She got me back by making it impossible to raise both of you without one of you dying. It was some fuckin’ curse she had up her sleeve. I was too busy hidin’ you to go around trying to kill her. But she went after my boy, which woke you up, and now I’m going to rip her into little pieces until she stops screaming. The fucking _end._ ”

Rose blinked and focused on looking at the road in front of her. “Glossing over the dismemberment imagery, what do you mean you were too busy ‘hiding me’? And how were you hiding Dave, exactly?”

Her mother’s tone slipped into depressed again. “I can kinda do the opposite of what you can, honey. You see things, I hide things. But I can only use it on stuff that’s nearby. I had to trust somebody else with your brother’s safety.”

“If your abilities lie in obfuscation rather than illumination, how did you know he had died?”

“I had a charm, the little green cube on my bedside table. It was set to break if he…if…” Roxy started to take in deep breaths to fight off a new bout of tears.

Rose tried to distract her mother from this train of thought. “I don’t understand. You don’t seem particularly angry with his guardian for failing to keep him safe.” Rose certainly was not pleased with Dirk at the moment, if he was the one on whose shoulders her friend’s safety had been placed.

Roxy gave Rose a long, sympathetic look. “Honey, you don’t know Dirk. It doesn’t matter if he slacked off or not. That guy does not forgive himself. Even if it was a lapse in his protection that led to this, I could never feel as angry with him as he will with himself.” Roxy let out another long sigh. “Besides, we’re going to need help to take spider bitch down. We’ll have to shake Di-Stri outta his pity party first, and we can’t be all pissed at him while we do that. It doesn’t matter anyway. That piece of shit _Vriska_ is the cause of me not being able to keep you both in the first fucking place.” Roxy dug a cleaning kit from one of the bags in the backseat and began furiously polishing rifle parts.

_MEANWHILE 2x COMBO…_

Jade had really been meaning to go through her grandfather’s effects sooner, but she had never been able to bring herself to do it. For whatever reason, she had woken up in her dorm room today resolved to finally go over the special objects he had set aside for her. She had inherited everything, being his only living descendant, but he had also left her a box of specific items he had hand-picked for sentimental value. It was probably his way of showing her his favorite parts of life. She already knew all of them of course, and he would have known that too. It was just the sort of corny thing her grandpa would do regardless of how well they knew each other. He was one cheesy old man, after all. She suspected he had probably been that way his whole life, which only made her miss him more. She would have loved to know him when he was growing up.

Jade wiped the tears from her cheeks, careful not to let them drip into the box. It housed mostly what she expected. At the top of the boxed jumble was an old fashioned picture of the man and his dog. He was quite young in the photo; gray had not yet replaced the ebony color of his hair. She sat the picture on her nightstand. Under a few more photos of Jade, her parents, and her grandpa, she reached his old pair of pistols and an ammo box. She placed them gently on her bed, facing away from her, before continuing. Beneath that was one small green box and two letters. One was addressed to her, with her first name written on it in his hand. She opened it and read:

_Jade,_

_I hope your life is going as wonderfully as I dreamed it would. That’s just silly of me, isn’t it? We both know your life was always going to be just capital! No need to worry about me anymore, dear. Death is just another adventure. I came to terms with it some time ago. This old rapscallion has had plenty of hurrahs, and he’s just glad he got to watch you grow up before his last one. I do love you so much Jade, and I know you are going to do so many amazing things. Far more than even I ever did, I daresay! I do have a tendency to go on these blustering tangents, so I will close here before I am tempted to go on at torturous length._

_I love you Jade. I hope your adventures are even better than mine!_

_L_ _ove,_

_Grandpa_

Jade moved the letter out of teardrop falling distance just in time. She folded it and placed it delicately on her nightstand, next to the old picture frame. She looked back in the box at the last two items. She pulled out the second letter. A small note was attached to it. _Yes, I do mean the person you are thinking of._ This envelope was sealed, and according to the front, the intended recipient was Dirk Strider, her friend Dave’s brother. This struck Jade as odd, but clearly the contents were meant to be private. She placed it in her backpack. She would bring it with her over the weekend when she visited home and deliver it in person.

Finally, she picked up the little green box. It was a bit heavier than she expected, and it had its own note attached.

_Jade,_

_The item in this box is very special. Always keep it hidden. Some rather unsavory and brutal characters out there would stop at nothing to obtain this item. Only one other soul on this earth knows you possess it. Be sure to keep it that way. I do apologize for leaving you with such a dangerous artifact, but it is our family’s burden to bear. It cannot fall into the wrong hands._

_Love,_

_Grandpa_

Jade wasn’t sure what such a tiny box could contain that was so important. She lifted the lid with great care, holding it out at arm’s reach and barely peeking through her eyes…oh. Hm. It was a cue ball. What in the world was so special about a cue ball? Well, her grandfather was very serious about the danger it could pose. Jade followed his advice and placed it back at the bottom of the box, burying it under the other items surreptitiously. Luckily, her dorm room was a single, so keeping the weird cue ball hidden wouldn’t be too tough.


	4. Thanks

The pounding of John’s heartbeat accelerated, egging Dave on. The taste—honestly there was no proper way to describe the feeling. It was like taking the complete satisfaction of every physical urge: thirst, hunger, lust…and multiplying that by some astronomical number. It was an all-consuming sensation. There was barely room for conscious thought in that state. It didn’t help that John wasn’t struggling. It seemed like he was also enjoying himself, to the small part of Dave’s mind that was able to make such observations. Another tiny part of him was screaming _NO NO NO_ over and over, telling him to let go, but this feeling…it was unfiltered perfection.

He faintly felt John’s hands on his chest, pushing weakly. “Dave…” John was breathless. His voice was a mix of fear and pleasure. “Dave, I’m getting dizzy. You need to stop.”

Stop? Stop feeling…whatever this was. Dave couldn’t come close to naming it. The little voice in his head was getting louder the more he drank. _Stop!_ It was agreeing with John.

“Dave, please,” John sounded more afraid now. He pushed harder this time.

John was scared; Dave started to understand. He couldn’t keep drinking. John was… _oh God. JOHN!_ The blissful sensation lost its dominance to horror then, as Dave began to realize he couldn’t stop. He was killing his friend. He was killing _John_ ! With every ounce of will he had, Dave tried to pull his mouth away from John’s neck, but he couldn’t bring himself to let go. It was like his thirst was overruling his free will. _Please, no. I can’t kill John. Please…_ His teeth withdrew the tiniest bit from John’s neck, but that perfect feeling still overshadowed everything, like an undertow dragging him down.

Out of nowhere, a hand grabbed the back of Dave’s shirt, jerked him surgically off John, and pinned him by the neck against a wall. Losing that ecstasy was like being hollowed out. Dave snapped out of his feeding haze. The burning in his throat came back, muted this time. His bro’s pointed anime shades were staring back at him. Dirk’s teeth were bared in a grimace—a grimace with fangs.

“You. Stay. Put.” Dirk said slowly, letting go of Dave’s neck.

Dave sank to the floor. He could still taste the blood on his tongue and smell it in the air. He clutched his knees and looked away from John, who was sitting on the floor in shock. Dirk knelt down and calmly pried John’s hand away from the wound on his neck. “Looks fine,” was all Dirk said. In a blur of speed, he disappeared and reappeared with a first aid kit in his hands.

Dave could feel John’s eyes on him as Dirk patched up the bite. “D-Dave?” John squeaked. Somehow his voice still managed to sound concerned, and not for himself. Dave pulled his body into a tighter ball, unable to look at his friend.

“That conversation can happen later,” Dirk said firmly. He pulled John off the floor. “Right now, you are going to lay down and rest, while we have some quality family time.”

“But—”

“ _No._ Phone, _now_.”

Dave heard John gulp and dig his phone from his pocket. Dirk snatched it from John’s hands and helped him to the bed. His bro quickly brought John a glass of water before addressing Dave again. “Go clean up. We need to talk.” Dirk ran a hand through his spiked hair and prowled off to the living room.

Dave somehow lifted his shaking frame into a standing position and trudged to the bathroom, still not looking at John. He closed the bathroom door behind him, even though he was sure Dirk would still be able to hear. For the first time in a while, he didn’t really give a shit what his bro would think. He leaned over the sink and began to cry again, but he didn’t seem to have tears anymore, just a faint tingling sensation. All he could manage were the normal sharp intakes of breath as his chest seized up with pain.

He had nearly killed John. He loved the damned fool. How could he _do_ that? He remembered feeling like a poker had been stuck in his throat, and John was the nearest bucket of water. It was like the instinct to relieve the pain moved in where rational thought used to live and evicted reason by kicking it out a fucking window. _No,_ Dave thought angrily. _That’s a bullshit excuse. I should have been able fucking to stop. I shouldn’t have touched him in the first place._

The sink started to creak in his grasp. He let up the pressure of his grip and reluctantly looked in the mirror. The blood on the sides of his mouth was still almost maddening to smell. He hesitated, then dabbed a bit of it with his tongue. The intense taste was dulled, but it was still there. He turned on the water and hastily washed the rest of the blood off his face. The apartment still smelled like John, still sparked little pangs in Dave’s throat. He took in deep, agonizing breaths as he approached the living room.

Dirk had put on some random shitty anime, probably to keep John from eavesdropping. He was sitting in the armchair, not really watching the episode. His expression was intense but unreadable. Dave sat down on the couch, waiting for his bro to say something.

Instead of talking right away, Dirk got up from his chair and stood in front of Dave. Her reached down and plucked the sunglasses from Dave’s face. His inscrutable mask betrayed a frown at the sight of Dave’s red eyes. His shoulders slumped, and his hands were shaking with what Dave assumed was rage. Dirk gently placed the sunglasses on an open couch cushion and slowly knelt down to be at eye level with Dave. He then took off his own shades, to reveal the bright orange Dave had hardly ever seen. He placed his hands on Dave’s shoulders. The stoic mask had faded away into obvious concern, something Dave saw even less than Dirk’s eyes.

Finally, his bro asked, “Who did this to you?”

Dave tried to collect his thoughts and answer, but it took him a while. “But I’ve seen you in the sun,” was all that ended up coming out of his mouth.

Dirk rolled his eyes. “I can explain all that shit to you, and I will.” He gave Dave’s shoulders a gentle shake. “I just need to know who did this.” His orange eyes—god, how did Dave fool himself into thinking they were just ironic contacts all these years?—held a desperation that Dave had never seen there before. His bro was supposed to be the picture of composure, but it felt like he was watching Dirk splinter right in front of him.

Dave drew in a bracing breath. John’s smell was still irritating him every time he filled his lungs. “It was two of them. A spidery chick and an asshole in striped pants.”

Something terrifying and murderous crossed Dirk’s face before he suppressed it. He simply nodded and let go of Dave’s shoulders. “Okay.” He walked to his room and returned a few seconds later with a blood bag. “Alright, now I can start explaining shit.” He tossed the bag onto Dave’s lap. “Lesson 1: Stopping. You practice taking a _single_ drink from that and stopping for a solid minute between swigs.” Dave stared at the swishing sack like it was a snake. He made no move to open it. “Lesson 2: Stopping is harder the hungrier you are. Playing Gandhi gets people killed.” Dirk gave him a significant look before putting his pointed shades back on.

Dave abruptly noticed that his bro’s shirt was ripped and riddled with holes and bloodstains. “What the hell happened?” He pointed at what was left of Dirk’s white polo.

“Lesson 3,” Dirk said coldly. “Don’t take on two dangerous opponents at the same time.” So they had fucked Dirk’s shit up too. It explained the lack of brotherly intervention when they had come for Dave. “I’m going to check on your boyfriend.” He winked mischievously as he approached Dave’s room.

Dave couldn’t even muster up a sarcastic denial at the mention of John. “Bro,” Dave almost whispered as he turned the blood bag over in his hands. “Why couldn’t I stop?”

Dirk sighed, and Dave was sure he heard his bro’s knuckles cracking. “The first time, almost no one can. Not on their own. You either have to be ready for it, which they made sure you weren’t, or you have to have backup to stop you. You’re fucking welcome, by the way.”

“Thanks, Bro,” Dave muttered, but he meant it more than anything he had ever said in his life.

_ELSEWHERE IN THE CITY…_

Vriska giggled to herself as she idly braided her wild hair. “That’ll teach the anime wanna-be to try to cut _my_ arm off. He stabbed me in the eye too! The _eye_ Eridan! You know how bad that fucking hurts?”

Her hipster partner in crime had his back to her, watching a small terminal cycle through status reports. He rolled his violet eyes while facing away from her. “Can’t say I’d know the feeling. Getting cut in half though…”

"Yeah,” Vriska agreed. “Good thing I was there to save your ass that time. How are my lovelies doing?” She strolled over to the computer with Eridan.

“Everyone’s vitals are fine, as per usual,” Eridan reported. “I get that this has been a boring couple of decades to set up, but did you really think antagonizing the douche in the hat was a great idea?”

Vriska laughed and clapped Eridan on the shoulder. “That’s right, you weren’t around for the first time that over-confident idiot made a nuisance of himself. Let’s just say he’s had this coming for a while now. He’s done more than just liberate a limb from my possession.”

“I should hope so,” Eridan said. “You stuck the damn arm back on, no problem. Why not just finish up decapitating him instead? He was barely danglin’ by a brainstem by the time we were through. But nah, you choose to use the time he takes healin’ to go make yet _another_ loose end with the fuckin’ kid?”

Vriska gave Eridan a nasty glare. “I don’t recall you complaining when you got to pin him to the wall with that lovely rebar. How many pieces of it did you even _use_ on the guy? Overkill much? Besides, getting to that little brat of his was so easy, I’d almost call it serendipity. Talk about luck! But the best part has got to be that I used his own fucking blood to do it!”

She let out a hideous cackle and leaned on the computer for feigned support. “I’ll be cleaning up _all_ my loose ends soon enough. We both know I am the better strategist, Eridan. My little indulgence just means we lay low until they think we’ve moved on. No one has any clue about our project here, and no one will until it’s too late.”

Vriska turned to smile at her ‘project’. In the dark, hundreds of tubes stretched the span of the gloomy underground space. Row upon row was filled with human bodies, still alive, unconscious in some sort of fluid. “We still don’t have the requisite amount. We need the time regardless. So stop your complaining. We are so damn close, Eridan.”

Eridan made a little yapping gesture when he knew she wasn’t looking. “Yeah, yeah. Like I said before, I’m here for the fruits a my diligent labor, then we part ways. You can go do whatever fuckin’ reckless thing you bloody well please, long as I get what I came for.”


	5. Rest

John dutifully finished his glass of water and quickly started to doze off. Stupid Dirk, turning up the TV so he couldn’t hear what they were saying. He was so tired after…wow, after having his blood drained by his best friend. What a weird thing to think about. He had started to freak out a little there, even though it had felt—how could someone biting you and sucking your blood feel so _amazing?_ It was a good thing Dirk showed up though…John’s eyes fluttered shut, but before he could drift away, the bedroom door opened again.

“Alright, time to talk about this before you pass out on us,” Dirk said. He rolled Dave’s computer chair over to the bed and straddled it backwards. He was wearing his usual blank expression under his ever-present shades.

“Well, you and Dave are vampires, and I’m not going to tell anyone about it.” Both of these facts seemed obvious to John.

“Good, glad we talked,” Dirk said dryly. He reached out and grabbed John’s shirt, pulling him a few inches forward. “But seriously, don’t tell anybody.” He let go of John and began to get out of the chair.

“Wait!” John begged. “Can I at least ask you about stuff?”

Dirk sighed and slumped back into the chair. “Fine, but make it quick.”

“Um, okay, so, what’s the synopsis of rules, like wooden stakes, garlic, crosses and stuff? And the invitation thing? Is that a thing too?”

John was sure Dirk was rolling his eyes behind his shades. “Garlic is just a spice, crosses are hit or miss, wooden stakes immobilize us, and yes, the invitation thing is…a thing. And we can walk in the sun, so don’t go around all cocky just because it’s up. We done?” Dirk crossed his arms and leaned back, clearly impatient.

“Almost,” John promised. “Okay, only two more. One: how long have you been a vampire?”

“Since 1923.”

“Holy shit. Wow. Okay, two: Why did you turn Dave into a vampire?”

Dirk’s fists curled up and his face started to approach the menacing snarl it had worn when he pulled Dave off John’s neck. “ _I_ didn’t do this to him.” It looked like he was internally fighting with himself for a second, then he just exhaled in frustration. “I’ve lost too much blood today to safely continue this conversation.” He stood and shoved the chair a little too hard back to Dave’s desk.

“Can I talk to Dave?” John asked.

Dirk paused but didn’t turn around. “It’s not safe. He’s way too new. I’ll drive you home after you rest. Come up with a good excuse for your dad.” He shut the door loudly behind him.

If Dirk didn’t do this—and it was frighteningly obvious he wasn’t too keen on his brother’s vampirism—then who did? John didn’t really want to think about it. He guessed you had to die as part of the process, and he didn’t want to think about his best friend getting killed. It would mean that Dave had died before John got to tell him what he had been working up the courage to say…Anyway, he didn’t know much about vampires, other than the pop culture stuff. Dang! He had forgotten to ask if they sparkled in the sun. They probably didn’t though. He hoped he could talk to Dave soon. Man, he was tired…

“Hello?” A girl with waves and waves of long dark hair was looking at him. Her eyes were a pretty, dark pink color.

“Uh, hi,” John said back.

“I’m Feferi,” she said, smiling.

John waved sheepishly. “I’m John.” He looked around, but it was too dark to see anything besides the girl. “Where are we?”

“Oh, we’re in a dream,” Feferi explained cheerfully. “You fell asleep, silly.”

“How come I’m dreaming about you? Have we met?”

Feferi shook her head, laughing. “Never seen you before in my unlife. Technically,  _I’m_ dreaming about  _you_ . You must have been somebody’s snack recently. I’m glad you’re okay though!”

“Your ‘unlife’? Are you a vampire too? Can you all do this dream thing?”

“Yes, I’m a vampire. No, I’m the only one I know of that can do ‘dream things’.” She giggled again.

“So, do you know Dave’s brother?”

“Yes,” Feferi replied, tilting her head. “Was—was Dirk the one who bit you? That’s not like him at all.” She frowned, creasing her face with a strange, age-old worry that made John sad.

John shook his head. “No, it wasn’t Dirk. It was Dave. Somebody turned him into a vampire.”

The look on Feferi’s face changed from concern to devastation in an instant. “Oh, no.” She reached out to hold John by the shoulders. “John, can you do me a really, really big favor, please?”

“Uh, sure,” John said.

“When you wake up, tell Dirk not to go doing anything reckless. And please tell him I am so, so sorry.” Her eyes didn’t well up with tears, but she certainly looked like she was about to cry. “Can you do that for me?”

“No problem,” John said in his best assuring tone.

“Thank you,” Feferi sighed. “Now get some real sleep.” She faded out of sight, and John’s normal dreams closed in around him.

==>

His phone barely began to ring before Dirk answered. “What,” he said irritably. He took a long drink from the blood bag in his other hand. He was really hoping he could eat and shower before Roxy called him.

“Dirk,” his niece said. “What—how did—why couldn’t.” She topped then. He could hear her taking in shaky gulps of air in the background.

He wished it really could kill him, knowing that she had to suffer because of his failure. He wanted to crawl inside the maw of his guilt and let it swallow him whole. He deserved it. How could he let this happen? He was supposed to keep her son safe. Now he had to teach her son how to keep people safe from himself. Now, he had to tell Dave’s mother what had happened. What he had let happen to her son.

“Roxy,” Dirk forced himself to say. “I have to tell you something.”

==>

Rose did her best to focus on driving during her mother’s call with Dirk, who was apparently Roxy’s uncle and also—obviously—a vampire. Keeping her eyes on the road became ever more difficult as her mother’s voice rose in despair and fury. She gathered from Roxy’s half of the conversation that Dave had not only been murdered, but intentionally turned into a vampire. Rose tried to let this information raise her spirits. At least he wasn’t…gone. Unfortunately, her mother’s reaction to this information served to temper her enthusiasm for Dave not being completely dead.

At first, Roxy couldn’t speak. Rose could hear Dirk saying her mother’s name on the other end of the line. Then, Roxy exploded into a rage, describing in excruciating detail all of the awful, disturbing atrocities she planned to visit upon this Vriska person. Rose was shocked by her mother’s words. The woman had not touched an ounce of liquor since leaving the house. It was safe to assume this cold turkey approach contributed to her terrifying mood. Eventually, the outburst of graphic descriptions of torture subsided and Dirk seemed to be adding his own weight to the conversation. Her mother’s smoldering rage became directed at Dirk then, but not because Dave had died on his watch.

Roxy was angry with Dirk for being angry with himself. She said she needed him functional, to pick himself up off his sorry ass and take care of her boy. Rose could surmise that the early stages of vampirism were dangerous, both to nearby humans and the overall sanity of the vampire in question. It would not be safe for them to see him in person when they arrived in Texas. They would have to wait, and perhaps this was what bothered her mother most, after learning that Dave wasn’t truly dead. Rose certainly didn’t like it. She wanted to help her friend and brother, but she could tell her presence would only hurt.

Rose looked over to her mother, who was just hanging up her phone. Roxy took a few long, intense breaths. Then she opened her bright pink eyes and stared at the road before them.

“I am going to make her pay.”

==>

Dave had not yet successfully restrained himself to a single gulp from the bag, and it was almost empty. He was able to endure the solid minute between drinks, but taking just one was a less surmountable challenge. He had managed to get it down to two in just a handful of tries. That was something, but it wasn’t enough. He had to get his shit together. He was not going to kill anyone. Ever. He watched the time on his phone change.  _Okay, pull it the hell together._ He was not going to hurt John again. This time, he kept hold of his mind enough to stop. He yanked his mouth away from the bag after just one draw.  _Finally_ ,he thought.

He dropped the blood bag next to his phone and got up from the couch. He could hear his brother talking on the phone, but he didn’t feel like eavesdropping with his new hearing. Instead, he crept to his bedroom door and placed his ear up against the wood. He could hear John snoring softly, and it made him smile a little. Fucking adorable. Dave pulled his ear away when he started to make out John’s heartbeat under the snores. He strode back into the living room and approached the window.

The light of the early morning sun was squeezing its way through a gap in the curtains. Dave warily reached out his hand, ready to jerk it back in case of a burning sensation. But he didn’t burst into flames. The rays were uncomfortably hot on his skin, and his stomach turned at the sensation. Instead of being pleasantly warm, sunlight made him nauseous with its heat. He had a suspicion that hanging out in the sun too long would end with something far worse than heat exhaustion. God, what a fucking shitty thing to get stuck as. He dropped backwards onto the couch, leaving his legs hanging over the armrest. Vampires were  _so_ not cool.  _Fuck._

He took another single drink from the blood bag and yanked it out of his mouth forcefully. At least his learning curve was steep. This shit would be a hell of a lot harder if he wasn’t so stubborn. He supposed it could be worse. A hell of a lot worse. John would be dead right now, if his bro hadn’t come to the rescue. He was so fucking done with Dirk saving his ass. The guy had always been intense with the sword training, but now that Don’t Kill Anybody 101 was starting up, Dave got the feeling his brother was going to get extra insufferable.

Dave groaned audibly at all the shit slamming against the walls of his brain. He was just murdered by some loser in striped pants, woke up from said murder, spent a good couple of hours in denial, nearly  _killed his best friend_ , got bailed out by his bro AGAIN, and was now treating a blood bag as some kind of fucked up sippy cup to train to not murder people. Had he had worse days? Hm…nope, dying pretty much trumped everything, he decided. He slurped the last bit of blood from the bag and dropped it on the floor. He could feel a headache coming on. Luckily, he also felt tired enough to try and fall asleep. He did his best to shut his inner monologue the hell up and doze off. Apparently being dead for a few hours didn’t count as restful. There was some goddamn irony if he ever saw it.


	6. Dayblind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dirk angst makes sense later.

Dirk Strider really hated being alone, and he was aware of this. He was also god-awful with people, a fact he was even more aware of. He excelled in only two things: sword fighting and acting heartless. Also making puppet porn, but that was a more recent hobby. He hadn’t expected to find it as amusing or lucrative as it had turned out to be. He pretended to ironically like a number of things, like anime, My Little Pony, and rap. Despite his adamant maintenance of the irony façade, that’s all it ever had been. He knew Dave was probably the only person who got it, though it had taken the kid a while to figure it out. Dirk was just a bunch of contradictory statements, rolled into one sad excuse of a person.

At that thought, Roxy’s voice sounded loud and clear inside his head.  _Do not start this bullshit on me, Strider. We are ending this bitch once and for all, and you are not curling up into a ball and leaving my Dave to go feral. Do you hear me, Di-Stri?_

Dirk shook his head under the running water. Roxy had been pulling him back from the brink practically since she could talk, long before she knew what he was. Nothing changed when she found out. She just shrugged it off, like she was barely surprised. She was the weirdest niece ever, acting like his mom more than he acted like an adult at all. He hated how she could just verbally brow-beat him out of his stupors. Damn meddlesome, alcoholic, insightful niece. Might as well be his mother sometimes. The similarities were ridiculous. He rolled his eyes and scrubbed at some caked blood on his elbow.

When he finally finished cleaning himself up, he left the bathroom and saw Dave asleep on the living room sofa. The relief the extended shower had provided was swiftly replaced by a leaden weight in his stomach. It could be worse, a hell of a lot worse. He could be making funeral arrangements right now instead of planning on teaching his bro some legendary self-control. The rationalization didn’t change the fact that his little brother—great nephew, technically—had died on his watch. All because he had accidentally found the spider bitch out in public and decided to make a move.

It should have been easy, but he hadn’t counted on the extra muscle she had tagging along. Dirk had thought he had a clear shot at Vriska, but she must have felt him coming. He only got his sword halfway into her eye socket before she flipped backwards out of the way. He managed to slice her arm off before he felt a steel grip on his throat. Eridan was centuries older and therefore stronger, for which Dirk could normally have compensated with quickness. Unfortunately, Eridan’s strength was also supernaturally magnified in the way Dirk’s speed had been. The duo intentionally did not walk as a pair, and Dirk immediately understood the trap he’d fallen into. He had mistaken Eridan for a hapless stalker, following Vriska around. Turns out he was her bodyguard.

After feeling his neck give way under Eridan’s grip, Dirk woke up several hours later pinned to a wall. At least a dozen pieces of rebar were jammed through his arms, legs, and torso, holding him about ten feet above the ground. The guy in the stupid pants was impressively sadistic. It had taken even the stoic as fuck Dirk Strider several agonizing minutes to wrench his limbs free.

He hadn’t expected Vriska to retaliate so quickly. When he caught the scent of another vampire leading into his apartment building, he had sprinted up the stairwell as fast as he could, nearly shattering his doorframe as he charged through it. The scent led to Dave’s room. He had expected to walk in on his brother’s body, or Vriska holding his head like a trophy, anything but what he found. He hadn’t registered John’s scent in his panic, so when he found Dave draining the poor kid, he froze. Fortunately for everyone involved, Dirk’s immobilization lasted about twenty milliseconds before he was wrenching Dave from John’s neck.

He cracked open the door to Dave’s room. John was out like a buck-toothed light, snoring quietly. Dirk was not in a sleeping mood. He would need to eventually, but right now was the time to get his shit together. Roxy was right. People needed him, and he’d be damned if he’d let the spider live after this. He moved half of his blood stash from the small refrigerator in his room to the one in the kitchen. No point hiding it now, and like hell was Dave going into Dirk’s room for the stuff. Shit this was not going to be easy. He had a day-old vampire to coach, the dangerously unstable mother of said day-old vampire coming to town, and a plan of revenge to enact with said unstable mother. Yeah, sleep wasn’t happening.

Finally, he heard John start to wake up. Dave remained conked out on the couch. Before driving John home, after convincing the naïve idiot to keep his mouth shut and let Dave sleep, Dirk left a post-it note on Dave’s chest telling him to stay put.

“Can we talk now?” John asked the second he got in the car.

Dirk rolled his eyes. This kid was too nice to fucking tolerate. “Fine.”

“So, I met this girl named Feferi while I was asleep.”

Dirk did his very best not to show a reaction to this information. He succeeded. Mostly.

John kept going anyway. “She said not to do anything reckless, and she said she was really sorry about what happened to Dave.”

Dirk only grunted and handed John’s phone back to him.

After three failed attempts to get Dirk to participate in conversation, John sighed and looked out the window, defeated. When they finally pulled up to the Egbert house, John assured Dirk he would keep his promise of secrecy before running inside to give his Dad whatever excuse he had come up with. For just a second, when he was sure John was safe inside the house, Dirk let his head fall to the steering wheel. His brother’s affections for that dork were going to be a pain in the ass. He just knew it.

Dirk put the car in drive and headed for the coroner’s. Aradia was going to be curious about his double order, unless she already knew. She always fucking knew.

==>

Dave awoke to an empty apartment and a yellow note stuck to the front of his hoodie.

_Food’s in the fridge for once. Stay put. Please._

Well, damn. His bro never said ‘please’. This was going to be an unbearable period of don’t-eat-people tutelage, he could tell. Already feeling like bees were stinging his esophagus, Dave decided eating would be a good plan. He found the blood bags on the top shelf in the fridge and started on one, keeping up his practice of one drink per minute. It did not go well at first, but he got down to the limit about halfway through the bag.

He had just thrown the container in the trash when he heard a knock at the door. He held his breath as he approached the apartment’s entrance, just in case it was someone he would find edible. Who the hell would this be? Dave  _never_ asked his friends over to the puppet creep show, and Dirk was not exactly social. John had only come over last night because he was worried. Dave cautiously peered through the peephole.

A petite woman in red glasses stood on the other side. She held a red cane in one hand, raised to knock again, but Dave saw her pause to tilt her head to one side. “I can hear you in there, Strider,” she said. “We need to talk.”

“Who the hell are you?” Dave demanded through the door.

“Oh, it’s the little Strider!” The woman’s face split into a wide grin. “I won’t hurt you Dave, cross my slowly beating heart.” She let out a high pitched giggle and leaned on her cane.

“And I should believe that because…?”

“Because, if I wanted you dead, I would have broken down the door and decapitated you before you had the chance to scream.” She said it matter-of-factly, like it was an immutable law of the universe. “Now, are you going to let me in, or is your brother going to have to replace his door when he gets home?”

Dave rolled his eyes behind his shades and opened the door. “Don’t I have to invite you?”

“That protection is only offered if someone  _alive_ resides on a given premises,” the woman said as she marched through the door. She turned to Dave with that too-wide grin. “Nice to meet you, Dave. I’m Terezi.” She offered her hand, then took a long breath in through her nose when Dave shook it. “Mmm…you smell like red candy apples,” she chuckled.

Dave yanked his hand out of hers and backed up a few steps. “Okaaaay, ignoring that. Why are you here?”

Terezi moved to the window to close the curtains and block the sunlight completely. “I was coming here with the goal of talking your caretaker out of doing something drastic as retaliation for your murder.” She scrunched up her face and looked around the room. “Holy shit does he love puppets,” she commented.

“Let’s not get side tracked by my bro’s disturbing obsessions,” Dave said. “What’s with the cane?”

Terezi twirled the red and white weapon fondly. “I’m dayblind. It comes in handy if I have to travel during the day. That and there’s a handy sword inside.”

Dave shifted his feet, wishing he was holding his own sword right now. This lady was creeping him out. “Dayblind?”

“It means I can’t see in sunlight, the same way humans can’t see in the dark.” She looked Dave over and took in a few more unsettling sniffs. “Where is your older counterpart, anyway? Taking the human home that you managed not to kill?”

“How do you even know about that?”  _Seriously,_ Dave thought. _This bitch is getting more unsettling by the second_ .

Terezi tapped her nose. “I’ve got the best nose this side of Mexico, and I can smell that you had a human who smells like blueberries in here. I can also tell he was alive when he left. Taking into account that you would not be able to safely interact with him in your brand new undead splendor, I can easily surmise that Dirk took him home. It’s not that complicated.”

“Whatever, Sherlock.”  _What a know-it-all_ .

She just laughed a screechy laugh at that. “I think it’s safe to assume your great uncle will be returning soon, most likely after making a stop for food.”

“My great uncle?”  _Yeah, she is definitely fucked in the head_ .

Terezi peered at Dave over her glasses with a pair of cynical teal eyes. “Well, he is certainly too old to simply be your biological brother, isn’t he?”

Dave’s face fell a little. He hoped the shades kept Terezi from noticing. “The topic didn’t come up yet,” he stated as neutrally as possible.

“Yet,” Terezi scoffed back. She seemed to deliberate for a moment, then hopped over to the fridge and dug out two blood bags, tossing one to Dave. “How about you ask me whatever questions you want until Dirk gets home?” Another huge, shit-eating grin lit up her face.

“You’re not serious,” Dave said skeptically. “Would you even answer me honestly?”

“Probably. Any victim of Vriska’s is a friend of mine.” She smiled viciously, sat down on a barstool, and leaned an elbow on the counter as she took a long drink from her bag. “I want Vriska dead as much as Dirk. I haven’t torn your head off, have I? Have a little faith.” She burst into laughter. “Okay, forget that last part. Just believe me when I say I’ll actually answer your questions, unlike a certain guardian you know.” She drew in the corners of her mouth and flattened her eyebrows in a very strained imitation of Dirk’s go-to indifferent mask. Dave very nearly laughed at that. Terezi could only hold her face still for a few seconds before she gave up and let her excited grin return. “Ask me anything!”


	7. Advice

John sat on his couch, watching Con Air for the second time since Dirk had dropped him off. Or maybe it was the third time? It was hard to tell how long he had been sitting there, re-hashing the same memories and thoughts over and over. Only two solid facts seemed willing to present themselves. One, that he was a complete doofus. Two, that he liked Dave. Yes, in _that_ way. He was an idiot for not telling him sooner. He had been trying to build up the courage to talk to Dave about this, but he never had the guts. He kept telling himself he didn’t want to ruin their friendship. They were going to be roommates in college. What if it didn’t work out? They would have to share a room, and it would be the most awkward thing ever. Excuses, excuses. His friend had literally just died and come back from the dead. He deserved the truth, but if John told him now…

Dirk had made it pretty clear that being around Dave right now would be dangerous. Wouldn’t a sudden confession like this make Dave’s emotional state a little…unstable? Did Dave just need a friend right now? Ugh, why couldn’t things just go back to being simple, when John was trying to develop a spine and ask out his regular, human best friend? Now he had to worry about Dave trying to involuntarily eat him _and_ fucking up their friendship _and_ dealing with his feelings. He was way too much of a doofus for this many layers. He wished Rose was here. Rose was good at layers.

Holy shit, _Rose_. John had forgotten to call her and tell her Dave was okay. Except Dave was not okay. What was he going to tell Rose? Should he tell her the truth? How? Was it safe to do that over the phone? What if the government tapped the call and came to take Dave away to do horrible experiments or—

“Son,” his dad said, cutting through John’s panicked thoughts. “You’ve watched Con Air four times today with that exact same look on your face.” He placed a hand on John’s shoulder from behind the couch. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Four? Had it really been four times? “More than anything, Dad,” John said. “But I don’t think you would understand, not about this.”

He heard his father sigh. “Well, perhaps you could talk to your friend Rose about it,” he suggested.

“Yeah, but this is really kind of something I’d need to talk about with her in person.”

“Well, then I suppose it’s a good thing she came over to visit,” said Dad.

“What?” John spun around, nearly dislodging his cushion. Standing calmly in his living room, dressed in full black and purple splendor, was his friend Rose Lalonde. “Rose!” He shouted happily.

“Hello John,” she replied with a small smile. Her eyes were a bright lavender, not brown like John thought he remembered.

“Rose, don’t you, like, live in New York?” John asked incredulously.

“I’ll leave you kids to it,” Dad said quickly, grabbing his coat. “I need to make a run to the store.” John was sure his father had gone shopping yesterday.

As soon as his father closed the door, John leapt from the couch and pulled Rose into a relieved hug. “Rose, you have no idea how glad I am that you’re here!”

==>

Rose gently returned John’s hug, trying to control her expression before he let go. Her visions at his touch were intense. She wished she hadn’t seen them.

“My mother is spending the remainder of the day searching for a suitable apartment,” she hurriedly stated, catching the look of concern on his face. “I elected to visit you rather than accompany her.”

“Oh, how come?”

“I sense you are about to make a decision that will have significant consequences, but it was unclear to me what some of the larger ramifications would be until I saw you in person.”

“That didn’t make much sense, Rose, even from you. What do you mean, ‘larger ramifications,’ and what are you even doing in Texas?”

“I suppose I should start at the beginning,” Rose sighed.

==>

Aradia did not look surprised when Dirk entered her office three days ahead of schedule. “Hello, Mr. Strider,” she said in her usual professional tone.

“Hey, Megido,” Dirk said. “I need a little more than double my usual.”

Aradia nodded. “I am aware.” She gestured to a styrofoam box next to her desk.

“Fef already told you,” Dirk guessed.

Aradia nodded again. “Yes. It is my job to know how many special customers I need to supply, after all.”

“Fair enough,” Dirk muttered, picking up the box. He picked up on the slight tightness around the corners of Aradia’s mouth, the only indication of stress he had ever seen on her face. “Just say what you want to say already.”

“I worry that you plan to isolate him from us,” Aradia stated. “What little I have heard you say about your ward does not indicate that imposing your philosophy of detachment would be wise.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Dirk said. He hated how right Aradia could be sometimes. Dave tried hard to pull off Dirk’s patented indifference, but the kid could never really get away from his emotions.

“Please do,” Aradia requested. “It might also interest you that Terezi mentioned visiting your apartment to curb any potential reckless outburst. She is forming a plan and would like you alive upon its implementation.”

“Terezi was going to my apartment,” he repeated flatly. “Oh _hell_ no.” He was out the door and in his car before that last ‘o’ sound resolved in Aradia’s ears.

“Have a nice day,” Aradia called through the doorway. She waved a hand in the air, closing the door without touching it, and calmly returned to filling out the forms on her desk. “Determined cause of death to be…”

==>

John’s eyes were wide as Rose finished her tale. “Wait, so why did your mom steal from Vriska in the first place, if she was so dangerous?”

“It was difficult to get my mother to explain that part,” Rose admitted. “Eventually it became clear that Vriska had killed my mother’s fiancé, my father. It seems he was just another meal to her.”

“That’s awful,” John said. “I’m sorry, Rose.” He fell silent for a bit, staring down at his hands in his lap. They had settled on the couch to talk, with Con Air paused on John Malkovich holding a gun to a stuffed bunny. Finally, he said, “Rose, I thought your eyes were brown, like Dave’s.”

“Well, they were until recently, John,” Rose explained.

“Until you had to see…” John gulped, unable to finish.

Rose nodded. “Not until I saw them murder my brother, correct.” She paused, realizing how strange a thing that had been to say. “You probably couldn’t tell through his shades, but his eyes are red now.”

John jumped a little. “Why does that happen?”

Rose shrugged. “Perhaps it is meant to be an indicator, to give normal people a chance to recognize the supernatural. What specifically causes the phenomenon, I don’t know.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” John insisted. “You’re still Rose, and Dave is still Dave. His eyes probably look just as cool as yours.” John gave her a big, buck-toothed smile, and Rose couldn’t help but return it.

“I am certain he would not agree on that point,” Rose added, suddenly frowning. “Even if red is—or was—his favorite color.”

“Hey, Rose?” John asked, looking down at his hands again.

“Yes, John?” Rose prompted.

“You remember how we talked about Dave recently?” John continued to stare at his hands in his lap, chewing on his bottom lip.

“You mean how we discussed the mental acrobatics you perform every time a romantic thought about Dave crosses your mind? Yes, I remember, John.” Rose kept her gaze leveled at her friend, working to keep her mask of calm in place. “We have had several conversations on the topic.”

“You know how people say you should just seize the moment? Like how it could all end tomorrow, so live for today and all that stuff?” John finally looked over at Rose, eyes welling up. “Rose, I didn’t tell him. Someone came and murdered him like it was nothing, and I just let him die without telling him the truth! I know he’s still here, and I could still tell him, but I still feel like I let him down.”

“Oh, John,” Rose pulled him into an awkward embrace. She was out of practice with hugs, but she needed to hide her face. “You couldn’t have known. You didn’t let him down.”

John cried onto Rose’s shoulder. “I know, I know, but…what should I do? I still want to tell him, but what if, what if I screw everything up? It’s not fair if I tell him how I feel just to make myself feel better. I mean, he needs me as a friend to get through this, doesn’t he?”

Rose pulled John off her shoulders to make eye contact. “John, friendship and romance do not preclude one another. We have been over this before.”

John gave her a look of confusion. “But, aren’t you going to tell me I shouldn’t? Or like, warn me that it’s dangerous?”

Rose placed her fingers on John’s neck where her visions had shown her Dave had bitten him. “I think you know it would be dangerous, John.” Rose found it curious, how there was no longer a wound. Though this certainly explained why the general public remained unaware of their predators. “I don’t think your own safety ever factored into your decision. It’s not in your nature.”

“So, you’re saying I should tell him the truth?” John asked. “Wait, what if he doesn’t feel the same way?”

Rose tried her damnedest to make her smile happy and hide her sadness. “John, the only thing I will tell you is this: you are a giant doofus if you have spent most of your life with Dave Strider and you think he isn’t head over heels for you.”

The ringtone of Rose’s phone made them both jump. “Yes, mother,” Rose answered once she had collected herself. John blushed beet red as Rose’s words sank in. “Yes, I’ll be outside in a moment.” She hung up and placed her phone back into her pocket. “John, the information I just disclosed is to remain between the two of us. If my brother were ever to discover I had told you that, he might literally kill me.”

It was only after she closed the door to John’s house behind her that Rose permitted herself to cry. She was an awful, horrible, meddling, meddlesome meddler, but she didn’t care about that just now. John deserved to be happy. Nothing was fair. The visions that came to her when she touched him were quite clear. Whether John pursued her brother or not, one outcome was the same. John was going to die.


	8. 'Aranea'

\--ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 19:23--

EB: hey dave, you there?

TG: yeah im here egbert

EB: you okay?

TG: youre asking ME if IM okay

TG: egbert you are the nicest kind of fucked up in the head

TG: i cannot even fathom how you think anyone but me should be asking anyone but you if they are okay

TG: so are you

EB: am I what?

TG: okay

TG: you dense motherfucker are you okay

EB: dave, i’m fine.

EB: and i reserve the right to be concerned for your well-being regardless of my own

EB: are you gonna tell me how you are or not?

TG: john

TG: have you met my bro

TG: i am so far from okay youd need a telescope to spot me from there

TG: i am in fact so deeply entrenched in the self-control extravaganza

TG: that to even communicate with you requires some serious mission impossible bullshit

TG: i am going to fucking end him i swear to fucking god

TG: i can’t even think of a good rap about how goddamn overbearing he is being

TG: thats how pissed i am right now

EB: he’s just looking out for you

EB: but yeah, i don’t exactly envy your position

EB: your bro doesn’t seem capable of being anything but

EB: ridiculously intense, i guess is a good way to say it

TG: fucking tell me about it

TG: id beg for rescue if i was sure i wouldn’t try to eat you

EB: hehe, i’d probably still come anyway if you were in any actual danger

EB: you’re my best friend man

EB: even if i have to wait until you don’t want to eat me so bad to see you in person

TG: thanks man

EB: but anyway, i wanted to ask you to come over

EB: not right now, but when you can

EB: i have something important to tell you

TG: and you cant tell me via our current form of communication because…

TG: no wait

TG: don’t tell me

TG: youve got a fucking bomb dont you

TG: damnit egbert we discussed your anti-american biases i thought you were past this man

EB: shut up, dave.

EB: i’m being serious.

EB: just

EB: just come over as soon as it’s safe, okay?

TG: yeah yeah but if its just so you can set a stupid prank bomb off in my face i swear egbert im going to bite your dick off

EB: gross dude

TG: i gave you fair warning

EB: whatever, see you soon!

TG: later

\--ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 19:33--

Maybe Dave had been exaggerating about having to be stealthy when talking to John. It was more like Dirk wasn’t in the apartment at the moment. He and John had actually been chatting for a few days. It was one of the few things currently maintaining Dave’s sanity. Sanity which was not in jeopardy merely because he was dealing with wanting to eat innocent people, but also because his brother was driving him up the fucking wall.

Dirk had been making him do the rooftop practice sessions in the blistering sun, lording his tolerance over Dave, who struggled to stand without wobbling half the time. It was like wading neck-deep in water that was just about to boil. Not only did he have to sword fight Dirk, he had to sword fight Dirk moving at full speed. Meanwhile Dave felt like a slug cooking on a hot rock. He did learn that he could move nearly as fast as Dirk, if he concentrated. He couldn’t do it consistently yet, not under the fucking blasting sunlight, but he’d managed to land a few solid strokes before Dirk could dodge.

The worst part wasn’t the sparring. They had been doing that for ages, even if it was a bit more intense now. What Dave hated was the part right after. Spending time in the sun was costly, blood supply-wise. Not to mention, the multitude of small cuts left behind by his bro’s sword added up after a while. He came down from every fight thirsty as fuck, but can he just take a few long swigs? Nope. Not on Nazi Dirk’s watch. The fucker watched him like a hawk, enforcing the one drink per minute rule. Of course Dave knew the point behind it, and of course he adhered to it mostly just to prove that he could. Didn’t stop him from wanting to tear that smug smirk off his bro’s face.

Once his throat had moved past the initial few days of pain, the drinking regimen actually became a piece of cake. Dirk had taken him on a walk last night, to Dave’s surprise. The asshole joked that it was like socializing a puppy. Dave had been too nervous to make a decent comeback. He was relieved when the first person they passed just smelled tasty and not mind-shatteringly enticing. His throat didn’t get that blowtorch feeling anymore when he smelled people. He was always thirsty, always partially thinking about it, but he had control of his fucking body finally. Now all he had to do was convince Dirk to let him go out alone, and he could visit John in peace.

Dave looked back at the Pesterchum window still open on his phone. _I have something important to tell you_ , he read again. What did John have to tell him? Dave tried to ignore the hope for what he had always wanted John to tell him. First, it was stupid. Second, it was dangerous. Entertaining the thought was obscenely selfish, but he couldn’t help it. Anyway, John probably just wanted to see him in person. They were apparently still best friends, despite Dave nearly killing him. Was even being friends safe? What if the spider bitch went after John for some twisted reason? No, fuck that thought, seriously.

The whole point of Vriska coming after Dave was to get under Dirk’s skin. Seemed like she had succeeded, if Dirk’s reaction to finding Terezi chatting with Dave alone in the apartment was any indication. Terezi was very clear that if Dave went after Vriska, she wouldn’t directly retaliate. It wasn’t how she operated. She would go after the people Dave cared about, like John, Rose, and Jade. She only eliminated direct threats to her plans. The list of people Vriska had deemed “threats” was just as long as the list of people she had offed just to fuck with someone. Dave eventually had to ask Terezi to stop talking about it. He didn’t want to hear anymore.

An unexpected knock at the door disrupted Dave’s thoughts.

“Dave?” called a familiar voice.

Holy shit, Jade was here. Dave froze. He knew he wouldn’t hurt her, but he wasn’t sure how normal he could act. Certainly wouldn’t fool Jade; she was too smart not to notice something was up. She knocked again, and he flinched.

“Hello? Anybody home?”

No, he couldn’t answer. It was safer for Jade to just stay out of this. But wasn’t this the week her summer session ended at college? He remembered her mentioning something about coming home to hang out until John and Dave moved into their own dorm room. Wait, why was she even here? Jade thought Dirk was creepy—rightly fucking so, and there were plenty of other established reasons for no one wanting to visit this place. Suddenly everybody wanted to just drop by the creepy puppet den.

Dave heard a shuffling sound as Jade shoved something under the door. He listened to make sure she had gone down the stairs before checking what the object was. A letter? For Dirk? What in the actual fuck? It didn’t look like Jade’s handwriting, at least. That would have creeped Dave right the fuck out. Damn, the thing was sealed. _Whatever,_ he thought, tossing it onto the kitchen counter.

==>

Jade sighed as she descended the stairs to the street. She apologized when she nearly bumped into a little old lady in the hall. She had hoped to see Dave, even if it meant dealing with those creepy puppets of Dirk’s. Her squiddles were much less disturbing. Then again, her squiddles were not also a prominent feature in pornography. At least, she hoped they weren’t. Blegh, she didn’t want to think about that.

Fortunately, one of her friends was pestering her just now. She welcomed the distraction.

\--arachnidsGrip [AG] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG] at 2:24—

AG: Jaaaaaaaade!!!!!!!!

GG: oh hi aranea! :B

GG: hows it going?

AG: Oh, you know. The usual. ;:::)

GG: all the irons?

AG: All of them, indeed.

AG: So, I heard you were back in town for what’s left of summer!

AG: When are we hanging out?

GG: i just have to dump my junk at my house real quick

GG: then im totally free! :B

AG: Gr8! We should totally go see that new spider horror flick!

GG: *eyeroll* you and spiders i swear

AG: The spider is a noble creature!!!!!!!!

AG: We’d all be knee-deep in nasty insects if it weren’t for spiders.

AG: Think of your garden, Jade. Think about all the infestations you’d have to deal with if not for the great and powerful spider. Anyway, we should see the movie. I’ll meet you for the 5 o’clock showing! ::::)

GG: oh okay fine

GG: see you there! :B

\--arachnidsGrip [AG] ceased pestering gardenGnostic [GG] at 2:28--

Vriska sighed contentedly as she logged out of Pesterchum. The girl had been so wonderfully gullible. Weaving her way into Jade’s life had hardly been a challenge. Jade’s mind, however, was a different story. She was trusting, but not very malleable. It had taken Vriska months to put down strong roots in the girl’s psyche.

“How did you even know she was going to the Strider place?” Eridan asked.

“Oh, I have my little scouts all over the city. They don’t even know they’re doing it.” Vriska grinned. “I have an old lady keeping an eye on the comings and goings of the Strider residence.”

“I suppose it’s the same old lady that told you about Terezi’s visit?”

Vriska nodded. “I’ve told you before, Eridan. Nothing gets past me.”

Eridan rolled his eyes. “Nothing but that woman who stole your artifact right from under your nose.”

Vriska grimaced. “That woman is a freak of nature. It’s like she doesn’t even _exist_ half the time.”

“And you’ve been weaseling your way into this Jade girl’s head because…?” Eridan asked, refusing to be side tracked.

“I know her parents had a hand in hiding my prize,” Vriska answered. “It’s a shame they refused to tell me anything.”

“You think she knows where it is,” Eridan said.

“Not exactly,” Vriska amended. “Her grandfather knew where it was. I dove into his mind a time or two and took what I needed.”

“Do you mean to tell me,” Eridan began furiously. “That you have known that damn thing’s location for the past several decades?!”

“Of course,” Vriska replied, smirking. “I just let them think I didn’t. Why bother trying to hide it from them when I can just steal it back right before I need to use it?”

Eridan let out a frustrated sigh. “Then _why_ do you need the girl?”

“Eridan, do you pay _any_ attention? How did I curse the bitch who stole from me?”

“You sacrificed the girl’s parents in some ritual,” Eridan droned. “You’ve gloated about it plenty…oh, I see. You need magic to activate it, don’t you?”

“Now you’re getting it.”

“I suppose it is irrelevant that the girl cannot use magic herself?”

“Correct again.”

Eridan resisted the urge to pull at his hair in aggravation. “So why are you bothering with being nice to her?”

Vriska put on a fake pout. “Well, I did murder her parents. It’s the least I can do, to give her the privilege of being friends with me--well, _'Aranea'_ \--before I kill her too.” Vriska’s smile crept back onto her face. “Besides, it’s just a failsafe. She doesn’t have a wishy-washy mind. I am taking precautions, making sure I can control her at the critical moment. Can’t have her free will getting in the way of our goals.”

Eridan did not miss the brief hesitation before ‘our’ in Vriska’s words.


	9. 413

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Contains Dirk Feels, Terezi's Plan, and A Heavy Dose of Awkward  
> (Also, this was hard to write with so much exposition. Hopefully it's digestible.)

“For fuck’s sake, go visit him already,” Dirk finally burst out (though really he didn’t ‘burst’ so much as abruptly begin talking calmly). “I can’t fucking deal with this angst.” Maybe there was a tiny edge in his voice. Maybe.

Dave stared at his bro for a long moment. “But, what if—”

“I walked you through the fucking  _hospital_ yesterday. You’ll be fine. If you don’t leave right now, I am going to stuff a moist puppet into every pair of underwear you own,” Dirk warned.

The echo of the door slamming made Dirk smile just a tiny bit. Fucking finally. This was probably a terrible idea, but he needed Dave out of the apartment. He hoped the visit to John’s would take long enough that he could go and see what Terezi’s stupid plan was without raising Dave’s suspicions. He needed to head out soon, but first he wanted to read the letter.

He had been putting this off for no good reason. It was just a letter. From Jake. He should have ripped it out of the envelope the second he saw it. Something had stopped him though. Even now, he was just sitting there like an idiot, staring at his name written in dark green ink. He hadn’t gone to the funeral. Too many people might have recognized him, and it just wasn’t the sort of thing Dirk did. He had gone to visit the gravesite. He hadn’t talked to the air like a crazy person. He had just stood there like a robot, wishing he could cry, just once. Corpses don’t cry. That was one of Terezi’s favorite sayings. God, she was morbid.

Right, he wasn’t going to leave to hear about this master plan until he had read the damned letter. He had finally gotten some privacy. Dirk smoothly opened the envelope and pulled out the single piece of paper. He read the dark green words scrawled in Jake’s hand.

_Hello, old friend. I shall get straight to business, first off. When the time comes, Jade will be the new guardian of the artifact. I have instructed her to keep it safe, and I have told her only that it is a dangerous object and it should be kept hidden at all times. I have every confidence you will keep her safe from that awful woman. But enough about all that._

_This is rather difficult for me to say. I’ve kept it bottled up for so long, you see. I don’t want to die a liar. Least of all to you, my oldest friend. I’ll have to get right to it, or I’ll be babbling for pages. I had a good life. I was happy but not whole. So before I’m gone for good, you deserve the truth. I don’t say this for myself, it’s not because I am an old man on his deathbed. I am not sorry for my sake. I’m sorry I was an oblivious simpleton. I’m sorry I was such a coward, about so many things. I’m sorry that I said no. I do hope that one day, you can find someone who won’t hurt you like that. Give it time. I just want you to be happy._

_Love,_

_Jake_

Why did the man have to be such a phenomenal cornball? Damn him for apologizing. Damn him for having regret. Dirk very nearly crumpled the paper in his hands. He took a deep breath, then he slowly folded the letter and placed it back in its envelope. He tucked it away in his bedside table drawer and picked up his shades. It took him several minutes to get the muscles of his face back under control. He decided it may have been a better idea to read the letter  _after_ the meeting. He gave the letter’s drawer one last, long look before heading out.

==>

Terezi, Roxy, Dirk, and Feferi stood around a table in a dimly lit room. Terezi had one of her maps stretched out on the flat surface. The corners were held down with plastic dragon figurines. She held a red marker in her hand, though she wasn’t writing with it. The map was already covered in hundreds of red dots.

“What are we looking at here?” Roxy was surveying the large piece of paper.

Terezi swept her cane above the map. “What we are looking at,” she began dramatically. “Is an illustration of the disappearances that have been reported in the city since 1983. That was the year the rate of missing persons reports began to rise by a statistically significant margin.” She pointed to the eastern side of the city. “Most of the disappearances have occurred on the east side. I believe she is collecting bodies.”

“What makes you think that?” Dirk asked.

“Nepeta and Tavros,” Terezi said simply. Feferi made a quiet sad sound in the back of her throat. “Just before the rise in missing people, Vriska killed them off, along with Equius.” Terezi began pacing around the room, indicating pieces of evidence pinned to corkboards she had attached to the walls. She passed a picture of a muscular man with long dark hair and a petite, friendly looking woman standing at his side. “Eliminating the strongman made sense; he was even more powerful than Eridan. Nepeta and Tavros, on the other hand, were neither malevolent nor particularly dangerous, physically.” She pointed to two pictures she had pinned close together. One was the petite woman again; the other was a shy looking young man with a brown mohawk. “They must have been dangerous to her in another way, to warrant killing them.”

“The animals,” Feferi contributed sadly.

Terezi nodded. She threw a sympathetic look to Feferi over the top of her red spectacles. “Yes, both Tavros and Nepeta had the ability to communicate with animals. Which means she is hiding these bodies somewhere in the city, somewhere only animals would notice. She couldn’t risk anyone finding out, even by accident, so she eliminated two liabilities. Even animals take notice when that many humans start to pile up somewhere.”

“Makes sense,” Dirk said. “So she’s been collecting corpses for several years now and hiding them somewhere in the city, probably underground.” He looked down at the red dots covering the giant map. “And it’s somewhere on the east side. That’s a lot of fucking city to go through without someone who can talk to the rats.”

“Yes, this search is most likely going to take months,” Terezi agreed.

“Then we should probably get started right  _now_ , don’t ya think?” Roxy demanded.

“It’s not so simple,” Feferi cautioned. “She can’t know that we are looking for her hiding place. She might accelerate her plans.”

“What plans?” Roxy asked. She grew more testy with each passing moment.

“The same ones she’s always had,” Terezi answered. “But she doesn’t have the artifact.” Terezi turned her gaze on Dirk and Roxy.

“No,” Roxy said.

“I know where it is,” Dirk said. “It’s safe. How many more does she need? Have you run the numbers?”

“Need for what?” Roxy was starting to turn pink around the ears.

“For the ritual,” Terezi replied. “She needs four hundred thirteen souls, fed to the artifact, which will present her with what is called ‘The Choice’.”

“And what choice is that?” Roxy nearly shouted.

This time it was Feferi who answered. “According to ancient hearsay, ‘The Choice’ is unique to the individual wielding the artifact upon the completion of the ritual. Supposedly, the general theme is to choose between a selfish and selfless action. Vriska will obviously be opting for whatever power the artifact offers once she has fed it the requisite amount of souls.”

Terezi cleared her throat. “Back to the matter at hand. I  _have_ run the numbers, Strider. After correcting for the normal average rate of disappearances, she seems to be close to her goal. She could be anywhere between 350 and 380 people deep already.”

“All those poor people,” Feferi lamented.

“Given the estimated rate of her abductions,” Terezi concluded. “We have, at best, six months to work with, and that’s if she doesn’t up and decide to swipe the last dozen or so people in one fell swoop.”

“But we don’t have to worry unless she has the artifact, right?” Roxy asked.

Terezi shook her head. “She might not know where it is right now, but she will stop at nothing to find out once all her pretty little pieces are in place. And she  _will_ go after Dave and Rose to get what she wants.” She gave Dirk and Roxy significant looks. “The sooner we shut her down, the safer our extended families will be.”

“Right,” Roxy said, rubbing her hands together. “Plan is: find the bitch’s corpse party, do it fast, don’t get fucking caught. Let’s get this shit done.”

==>

Dave could have made it to John’s in ten minutes, easy. The sun wasn’t around to sap his energy, so running at peak speed wasn’t difficult. But Dave wanted to take his time, at least somewhat. He wouldn’t drag the walk out to the full hour; he really did want to see John. He just wanted to incidentally pass by strangers and make sure he didn’t get the urge to pounce on them just at their scent. Everyone smelled enticing, as always. He was going to have to get used to looking at people like they were a buffet. It still skeeved him the hell out to think of normal people that way. He wasn’t sure what kept his pace at a sluggish, fake human run. He was in control. He would not hurt John, not in a million years. He flinched a little at that thought before pushing it away. He just wished he knew what was so important that John couldn’t just fucking tell him over chat.

He did manage to cut the trip down to half an hour. When Dave finally approached the Egbert abode, he stood frozen with his hand hovering near the doorbell. Wait, what? Why the fuck was he panicking? He was here because John had  _asked_ him to come. He should be fucking ecstatic that John was even still willing to talk to him, let alone invite him over to his house, especially considering what an invitation meant concerning Dave. He set his jaw in determination and pressed the button.

He heard feet pounding rapidly on the hardwood floor of the entryway as someone approached the door. It opened to reveal John standing there in his white t-shirt with that dumb green slime thing on the front. Dave loved the shit out of that shirt on John. It was just as perfectly dorky as his best friend. He let a tiny smile twitch the corners of his mouth, so John could see he was totally calm. John smelled…well, delicious, of course, but also just like  _John._ Dave nearly sighed in relief when he casually ignored the desire to eat his friend. That was getting wonderfully fucking easy.

“Hey, Dave!” John said, the picture of motherfucking happiness. He set his jaw in his own determined expression, took a deep breath, and said, “So the thing I wanted to tell you…is…um…”

==>

John was going to do this. He was. He couldn’t let the preparatory seven consecutive playthroughs of REO Speedwagon’s  _Can’t Fight This Feeling_ go to waste. No, he very well couldn’t. He was doing this. He was John Egbert, and he was going to man up and tell Dave the truth. Except…he was just standing there completely silent, staring at Dave like an idiot, probably with an expression on his face that made him look constipated. Shit, shit, shit, why couldn’t he talk? He had barely gotten out half a sentence five seconds ago. Oh shit, this wasn’t going well at all. What should he do?  _You know what? Fuck it,_ he thought suddenly. John leaned in, closed his eyes, and laid a kiss square on Dave’s mouth.

Oh god, he was kissing Dave. He was kissing Dave, and it felt good! He was kissing Dave, and Dave was…kissing him back! John abruptly realized how fast his heart was racing, and he pulled away reluctantly.

“Sorry, I was kinda tongue tied.” John knew he was blushing a remarkable shade of crimson, but he kept his eyes on Dave’s shades. “I didn’t like, make you upset or like, ravenous or anything, did I? Oh shit, I’m such an idiot, I—”

“John,” Dave interrupted quietly. “I’m fine.”

“Oh.”

“Could you just…do that again?”


	10. 612

_You approach the house with sluggish steps. You can smell the fresh blood mixing with the weeks-old rot, even from several yards away. It seeps out into the night and assaults your nose. You wish the stench was what slowed your steps, not what you are here to do. You’re not sure how much of him is left. You promised the others you would take care of it. He was your responsibility, after all. You made him. But not to be like this, not to be what he had become. You hate her for breaking him, but you hate yourself more for not being able to keep him together. Tavros had always done that better than you could. Tavros was dead, and you were almost certain most of Gamzee was too. You’re afraid of what little of him you’ll find on the other side of that door, but you have no choice. You don’t want the others involved. You take the last few heavy steps forward and swing open the door._

_What you see when you walk in…well, even you are struggling for a proper description of the scene. You try not to look around, but you notice far too many details despite your best efforts. Bodies and pieces of bodies litter the floor. All of them young women with long black hair. You see but try not to read the red words covering the walls. It’s hard to ignore the text; it covers every inch of the house. Even harder to ignore is the smell, magnified now that you stand at its source. You are grateful that nausea can only be induced by sunlight for you. As your human self, you would have been retching heartily onto the floor, preferably facing away from the bodies. It had been a full month since Tavros was murdered. You try to step widely around the oldest of the corpses._

_You find him hunched in a corner, writing more words in a blank space on the far wall. He dips his fingers in a fresh pool of blood from his latest victim and writes as he mutters to himself. You don’t approach right away; you don’t want to startle him. You want to see if you can get a lucid moment from him, no matter how much harder that would make this._

_“Gamzee,” you whisper. You know he heard you, but he doesn’t respond. He continues to scrawl whatever message is demanding be written on the wall. His mutters become slightly more fervent. You try again. “Gamzee.” It comes out as nearly a shout. You never had the best inside voice; you either whispered or projected like a theater kid, unless you were just outright yelling, of course._

_Addressing him more firmly seems to work. His fingers pause mid-stroke. He turns his head to look at you, still sitting with his body facing the wall. His eyes are vivid purple and wild like a beast’s. You’ve never seen him like this. You’ve never seen anyone turn feral. Feferi had told you stories of vampires who snapped, for one reason or another. None of the endings were pleasant. You had never realized how strong an anchor Tavros had been for him, nor how poor of an excuse you had been for one. Now, seeing the savage light in his eyes, it truly hits you how much of this is your fault._

_He says only two words to you: “Get out.” Then he goes back to muttering and writing his gibberish._

_“No,” you say. You take a step forward._

_“GET OUT.” He doesn’t turn around this time._

_“NO.” You keep walking forward until you hover over him._

_At first, his shoulders hunch and he seems to draw into himself. Then, a fierce snarl rips through the air as he turns around and grabs you by the neck. His fangs are bared as he looms over you, but you feel his hand shaking against your skin. His grip isn’t painful; it’s barely a warning._

_“Gamzee, it’s me.” You reach a hand up to clasp his wrist. He lets you gently pull his hand from your throat. “It’s Karkat.”_

_“Names were important once,” he replies contemptuously. “Told you to leave me alone.”_

_You let go of his wrist and shake your head. “I never should have left you alone. Gamzee, do you understand what you’ve been doing?”_

_“What I’ve motherfuckin’ gotta do.” The conviction in his voice makes you cringe inwardly. “Killing her every chance I get.”_

_You shake your head and try to glare at him. “No, you’ve been killing girls that look like her. You’ve gone off the deep end, Gamzee. You have to stop.”_

_He scowls at you with that feral glint in his eyes. “SHE DESERVES TO DIE.”_

_“And none of these people did.” You gesture behind you at the bodies covering the floor. “None of them was_ her _. Look at them, Gamzee.”_

_He stubbornly glares at you for a few moments, then finally looks past you at the horrific scene. “All I see is her.” But the certainty is gone from his voice._

_“That’s a lie,” you say. You can see the doubt on his face._

_The doubt quickly turns to panic. “No, it’s true. It has to be true. SHE HAS TO FUCKING DIE FOR WHAT SHE DID.” He keeps staring at the bodies as his speech grows more desperate. He backs up against the wall as he speaks. He shakes his head as if trying to ignore something. You can see the ferocity giving way to grief. His shirt smudges the writing on the wall as he slumps to the floor, still looking at the corpses. “Told you to leave me alone,” he chokes out. He covers his face with his hands and pulls his knees up close to his chest._

_“And I listened like an idiot. I thought you just wanted to deal with his death on your own, not go around ripping people apart.” He flinches and you immediately regret the edge in your voice. You kneel beside him and lay a hand on his shoulder._

_“I can’t stop. I don’t know how.” His breathing is uneven. What little you can see of his face through his hands would surely be tear-streaked if that were possible. “Every time I see one of them…” He peeked out from behind his fingers to look again at the dead women. “I can’t stop. Killing her is all I can think about. I can’t think about him. I can’t bring him back.”_

_“I’m sorry,” you breathe. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”_

_Gamzee shakes his head and drops his hands from his face. His expression is gentle and forlorn. “She’s not your fault. Tavros isn’t your fault. I’m not your motherfuckin’ fault. I’m just your problem, and we all gotta solve our problems.”_

_You feel like your lungs stopped working. “Don’t talk like that.” The break in your voice is apparent. He knew why you had come. You never did give his intellect enough credit._

_“This shit ain’t something you just fix.” His tone grows stern as he gestures around the room. “Don’t try and make me stay here without him.”_

_“STOP,” you beg. “Don’t. Don’t ask me.”_

_“I ain’t asking you.” He shifts position to sit on his heels directly in front of you. He takes your hands in his and places them on either side of his head. “I’m telling you.”_

_You try to move your hands away, but he holds them there. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I did this to you.”_

_“Ain’t nothing for you to be motherfuckin’ sorry about, Karkat,” he assures you. He takes a deep breath. “I won’t be out for long after the snap. Don’t take too long.”_

_You squeeze your eyes shut and steady your breathing. “I promise,” you say quietly. You look at his purple eyes one more time before he closes them._

_You clench your jaw and jerk your hands to the left. You hear and feel Gamzee’s neck snap. You keep your motions methodical. You reach a hand under his shirt and place it against the soft flesh just beneath the ribcage. You weren’t strong enough to get to his heart straight through the bone. You would have to reach up through his diaphragm. You pause for only a few moments to place your forehead against his. “I’m sorry,” you whisper one more time. You apply the force you need to break through to his chest cavity. You drive your hand up, grip his heart, and pull it out. You sob as you crush it and toss it aside. You can’t remember how long you stayed there, holding him and crying. Not long enough._

==>

Rose woke up in a cold sweat. What had she just _seen?_ She hugged herself and started to cry. She could almost swear the stench of that house still hung in the air. It was as though she had _been_ Karkat. She stared at her hands, which moments ago had been covered in blood. She knew the dream was important. It was clearly a memory, but she didn’t know who this Karkat was. She could barely think. The pain was too much for rational thought. She needed to collect herself before she tried analyzing the dream’s meaning. She rolled out of bed and barely caught herself from falling as her knees buckled beneath her. Her head swam as she felt along the wall for the door.

She made it to the bathroom and flicked the lights on. She splashed some cold water on her face, dabbed it off with a towel, and stared into the mirror. She was still getting used to her new eyes, which were not many shades off from Gamzee’s. She shivered and looked back down at the sink. It was difficult to focus through the images of death and blood that refused to give her peace. She needed her journal. She needed to write.

Rose ran clumsily back to her room and turned on the light. She ripped her journal from the shelf and grabbed the nearest pen. She fervently wrote her thoughts down in lavender ink. She wrote about the words on the walls, though Karkat had purposely not read them in the memory. She was glad she could not transcribe them explicitly. She let the thoughts take hold of the pen. The deep purple of Gamzee’s eyes, the scent of death, the pain of grief. Words written in innocent blood, one month. Tavros. Karkat. Vantas. John.

Rose stopped writing. The last two thoughts were not from the dream. The word Vantas was written directly beside Karkat’s name. Vantas must have been his surname. John was written on the line below, but he had not been in any of her dreams, prophetic or otherwise. Not tonight. In fact, this was the first night in which his death had _not_ been a prominent feature of her psyche. She had certainly gone to bed worried about him, despite telling herself over and over there was nothing to be done, that her fretting was pointless.

She looked at Karkat’s full name again. She focused, closing her eyes and pressing the pen to the paper once more. _Where?_ She thought. When she looked at the paper again, she had written an address.

==>

Eight hours later, Rose was being led to room 612 by a nurse in yellow scrubs. Karkat Vantas had checked himself into this mental institution decades ago. Rose knew he was a vampire, but none of the staff seemed to find his lack of aging worth mentioning. She wondered how he had managed this ruse. A small part of her was demanding that she turn heel and sprint out of this building immediately. She ignored it. She needed to see him.

The nurse knocked and opened the door to Karkat’s room. “Karkat, you have a visitor,” he announced warmly.

“Tell Terezi to go fuck herself,” was Karkat’s dull reply. “I’m not dealing with her bullshit today, Shane.” Karkat was sitting at a desk with his back facing the door. All Rose could tell about him was that he had messy black hair. His nose was buried in a paperback novel. Rose wondered what he could be reading.

Shane just smiled. “It’s not Terezi this time.” He made an encouraging motion for Rose to introduce herself.

“My name is Rose,” she said politely. “I’d like to speak with you.”

Karkat closed his book and turned in his chair to look at Rose, who struggled to hide her discomfort under his gaze. His eyes were a pure, unsettling crimson. “Who the fuck are you?” He stood and crossed the room to get a closer look at her. He was only an inch or two taller than Rose.

“I am Rose Lalonde,” she answered honestly. “May I speak with you…alone?”

“I don’t suppose I can get rid of you by telling you to leave.” Karkat’s voice strangely stressed the last word, as if it were a command.

“I don’t suppose you can,” Rose responded calmly, despite the shiver that ran down her spine.

“Fine,” Karkat said, rolling his eyes. “You can go now, Shane.”

The nurse promptly left, closing the door firmly behind him.

“What do you want?” Karkat asked as he sat down on his bed and crossed his arms. He regarded Rose suspiciously.

“I came to ask you some questions, and perhaps even to ask for your help.”

“…I’m listening.”


	11. Warm

John leaned in to kiss Dave again and…yes. Hell yes. Hell _fucking_ yes. It happened again. Dave could forget. He could forget the thirst. He could forget the way John smelled like gourmet cuisine. He could forget how cold he was inside. He could forget everything and just focus on the tiny, wonderful pocket of warmth coming from John’s lips. Holy shit, John was kissing him.

When John pulled back to take a breath, Dave very nearly pouted at the loss of heat. He covered his disappointment the usual way. “So level with me, how long did it take you to build up the guts for that?”

John pretended to scowl and lightly punched Dave’s shoulder. “God damn it, Dave.” John’s blush filled his cheeks again.

He could have dodged the punch, but Dave preferred the contact over showing off. Well, that wasn’t totally true. He was just going to show off another way. Faster than human eyes could follow, Dave wrapped John up in his arms and gave him a confident smirk. He laid his own kiss on John’s lips. None of this hesitant, adorable nonsense. This was a certain, passionate, true-to-form Strider smooch. If anyone had asked Dave how often he’d imagined this moment, he’d promptly answer with firm denial. But honestly, he had pictured this hundreds of times. Their glasses clinked together, as he’d expected, but he couldn’t give less of a shit about that. Hell, not even being dead could manage to spoil this.

After getting over how fast Dave could move, John seemed to find the confidence to return the kiss with just as much eagerness. He wrapped his warm arms around Dave, who couldn’t help the relieved noise he made in the back of his throat. _It’s like cuddling a hand-warmer,_ Dave thought absently. He was too busy gently running his tongue along John’s lips to hang onto articulate thoughts for very long. John seemed to get the message, tightening his embrace and parting his lips to let Dave in. Somehow, the taste of kissing John made it that much easier to ignore the memory of the taste of his blood. The only thing Dave had to restrain himself from was holding John too tightly. His heart might not beat like it used to, but apparently it could still flutter like a goddamn butterfly. He’d be embarrassed at his lapse in emotional control if he weren’t so preoccupied feeling _alive_ again.

A quiet “ahem” from inside the house put an abrupt stop to the boys’ embrace. _Oh fuck. John’s dad._ John spun around to face his dad, blushing bright red once again. Dave reluctantly let his arms drop. He had never been outright angry with John’s old man in his life, but he felt something predatory and pissed roiling in the back of his mind. He tried to suppress the feeling as he calmly held his hands at his sides.

“Uh, hi, Mr. E,” Dave offered. There was most definitely _not_ an edge of embarrassment in his voice. Nope. How had he not heard the old man’s footsteps? Oh right, he had been distracted.

John’s dad stared at the pair of them for a moment, then finally chuckled and asked, “Is _this_ what you were so sure I wouldn’t understand a few days ago, son?” He laughed softly. “I was worried it was something serious. Come inside; I’ll go bake you two something nice.”

John’s face could have passed for a cherry. “Da-a-a-ad!” He whined as his father wandered into the kitchen with an amused smile. “Oh my god, he’s so embarrassing.”

Dave casually put his arm around John’s shoulders and steered him inside. “Let’s be honest here, John. It’s not like you aren’t fully equipped to embarrass the fuck out of yourself without your old man’s help.”

“Shut up, Dave,” John said sullenly, but he wrapped his arm around Dave’s waist as they walked into the living room.

After their usual bout of earnest endorsements from John and sarcastic critiques from Dave, they finally chose to watch John’s new copy of Guardians of the Galaxy. They had only watched it together once before, which was far less than any other movie in the house. Dave knew John had probably watched it at least ten times by himself. Dave also knew that John had no problem watching it once more. John sort of ran movies into the ground. It was just a John thing. Dave loved pretty much every single John thing, with a few minor exceptions. Currently occupying the top of the list was how John was pressed into his side as they sat together on the couch.

Dave didn’t realize how much heat he had been leeching until John started to shiver. Dave quickly draped a blanket over his friend, feeling guilty.

John noticed that Dave was mostly outside the blanket. “Aren’t you cold?” he asked with a sympathetic glance. “You feel cold.”

Dave shrugged. “It’s hard to explain. I don’t shiver or get chilly, but I _know_ I’m cold, like all the way through. It’s weird. Blankets don’t really help.” He placed a hand on his chest. “No body heat to capture.”

John frowned. “That’s like the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.” He leaned more firmly into Dave, who sighed happily at the contact. Maintaining his cool façade took a backseat to enjoying John cuddles, especially when it helped him concentrate on _John_ and not how John smelled like Rare Who Roast Beast.

They had just made it to the part with the Collector guy when John’s dad brought a fully iced and adorned cake into their line of sight. “You boys enjoy,” he said mischievously. He placed the cake down on the coffee table along with the cake cutter and two sets of plates and forks. Then he whisked out of the room with his pranking smile on his face. Dave wondered briefly what the man could be up to. Then he looked at the cake.

“Oh my _god,_ ” John moaned. He put his face in his hands.

Dave nodded appreciatively at Mr. Egbert’s handiwork. _It’s About TIME_ , was written in alternating red and blue letters across the top of the baked masterpiece. No one knew how to mess with John like Dad Egbert. He was simply the best there was.

“I think I’m dying of embarrassment,” John complained into his palms.

“Hey now,” Dave teased. “I died once, and I find that highly offensive.”

Instead of playing along, John furrowed his brow in actual shame. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry, Dave.” He put his arms around Dave and squeezed tight. “I didn’t mean it.”

Dave snorted into John’s hair. “I was just messing with you, dude. It’s fine.” John was oddly silent. His only response was to hug Dave even tighter. “John?”

“Eight months,” John whispered into Dave’s shirt.

“What are you mumbling about, Egbert?”

“It took me eight months and you _dying_ to get off my stupid ass about…about how I felt,” John said more firmly, still speaking into the fabric of Dave’s clothing. “And I’m really,  _really_ sorry.”

Dave just shook his head and enjoyed the hug, regardless of his arms being pinned. “John, you really think I wasn’t spending my time trying to do the exact same thing?”

John lifted his head so he could look up at his reflection in Dave’s shades. “Huh?”

“I’ve wanted to ask you out for over a year, you fucking dork.” Dave craned his neck to leave a brief, gentle kiss on John’s lips. God, he was so _warm._ Dave pulled back with a smirk. “That makes you technically braver than me, so get over it already.”

John shifted so he could lean against Dave and still watch the movie. “What stopped you from asking me?”

Dave sighed. He knew John knew the answer, but his best friend was notoriously insecure. “You kind of gave off the signal of I’m-totally-going-to-turle-up-every-time-homosexual-attraction-is-brought-up. It was fucking frustrating, man.”

John flinched guiltily against Dave’s shoulder. “I know. Sorry.”

“Oh my god, stop apologizing and watch the damn movie already,” Dave groaned. Quietly, he added, “I forgive you, for fuck’s sake.” He felt John relax after the second comment, and together they watched a bunch of weirdos save the galaxy.

John was sleeping on Dave’s shoulder well before the ending. The most Dave had moved to do was grab the remote to mute the DVD menu, then tuck the blanket back around John. This had happened before; John had made a habit of falling asleep before a movie ended. Never like this, though. Not with his mess of jet black hair tucked under Dave’s chin, all wrapped in a blanket like some kind of adorable dork boyfriend burrito. No way was Dave disrupting John’s sleep, no matter how much drool got on his shirt. This was fucking priceless.

Dave heard John’s dad approach from upstairs. The man was still dressed in his work clothes, but the slight hunch in his shoulders suggested he needed some shut-eye. He smiled tenderly at his son sleeping on Dave’s shoulder. Then he looked at Dave with almost as much fondness. “I see the cake was a bit much then?” He chuckled, looking down at the unblemished confection. He kept his voice low to avoid waking John.

“I wasn’t hungry,” Dave replied in a likewise muted tone. “But I think John’s staging a protest against mortifying baked goods.” In reality, Dave would have had to puke the food back up later if he’d tried to eat it. He also would have felt guilty tarnishing Dad Egbert’s masterpiece by cutting out a slice.

Mr. Egbert just smiled. “I’m sure he’ll get over it.” He gave Dave a long, inscrutable look. “You care a great deal for my son.”

Dave wasn’t sure what to say to that. It hadn’t been a question, just a statement they both knew to be true. He simply nodded, sensing the older man had more to say.

“You waited a very long time for him to come to terms with himself. Most young people can’t handle that, and I appreciate it.” Mr. Egbert stooped to quietly pick up the cake and eating utensils from the coffee table. He gave Dave a sincere, piercing look. “I trust you to be responsible concerning my son, David. You’re both going off to college soon.”

Dave tensed at the connection between the two statements. John’s dad was fully aware that Dave and John would be sharing a dorm room. Dave just nodded seriously again, hoping that would be enough to resolve this topic.

Mr. Egbert seemed satisfied. He gathered up the last fork and headed for the kitchen. “Goodnight,” he added before leaving.

“Night, Mr. E,” Dave responded. Whew, _that_ could have been a lot worse. Good thing John’s dad was only worried about sex. If he knew Dave was a bloodsucking creature of the night who had to concentrate on ignoring the urge to eat John…The old man would probably have stronger reservations about their relationship, to say the least.

John shifted slightly in his sleep and snuggled closer against Dave’s side. Dave would give anything to let John sleep there all night, but it wouldn’t be safe. He needed to get back to his apartment soon; he could feel himself getting increasingly thirsty. He waited for John’s dad to go to bed, then he carefully picked John up in his arms and carried him upstairs. He could enjoy his new strength at least, as he looked down at John’s sleeping face. He ascended the stairs silently, his balance never wavering. He sat John down on the bed and drew the covers over him. He sighed at the loss of warmth in his arms, but he could see John tomorrow. Dave needed to operate on a full stomach, and he certainly wasn’t about to turn into a teen romance stereotype and watch his boyfriend sleep.

The word ‘boyfriend’ lingered in Dave’s head as he closed the door to the house behind him. He decided dying once was a small price to pay to still have a chance to feel this way. He ran full-speed back to his apartment, too exhilarated to abide moving at a normal pace.


	12. Forever

Eridan Ampora had not felt much of anything in a very long time. Why was he reminiscing at a time like this? He didn’t need to be here, not when he was so close to his goal. Yet here he was, in his old seat, at his old table, with a familiar face looking back at him. He should just wake up.

“Leave me alone, Fef,” Eridan said. “We got nothin’ to talk about.”

“You’re the one sitting at the chess table,” Feferi retorted. She sat down across from him and fidgeted with the fuchsia pieces on her side.

Eridan avoided her gaze and stared down at his own violet figures sitting on the checkered tabletop. “Can’t a man let his mind wander without being disturbed? I was just remembering our old matches.”

Feferi snorted. “Eridan, you never think about our games unless you want to play. And you never play unless you want to talk.” Feferi began the game with a simple pawn movement. “So talk.”

“Why would you even be willin’ to talk with me, anyway?” Eridan asked. He made a similar move on his side. “Aren’t I just a ‘heartless, power-hungry monster’?”

Feferi gave him a hard look as her hand moved another piece. “You had a heart, once,” she said solemnly.

“Must be I still do, if you could sense me well enough to come here.” He made his move and tapped the table.

“Why are you helping her, Eridan?” Feferi demanded. Her moves were already growing careless. “She killed so many of us.”

Eridan frowned at Feferi’s pained expression. “I’m aware,” he said dully.

“You could stop her,” Feferi stated. “She can’t control you. She trusts you.”

Eridan hesitated before saying “I’m aware,” again. Only this time there was an edge to it.

Feferi tilted her head, intrigued by the strange tone of Eridan’s voice. “What are you playing at?”

Eridan stood and began to depart the dream. “You can just wait and find out,” he muttered, knocking over his king.

Feferi grabbed at his shoulder. “Eridan, if you are going to stop her, just do it!” She spun him around, and he flinched away from her grieving eyes. “She’s taken so much, and she won’t stop. How can you let her keep doing this?”

Eridan turned without a word and left the dream bubble. Feferi didn’t understand. He didn’t care about anything but his goal. She was right, Vriska had taken so much from so many people. He didn’t care. Eridan only cared about what she had taken from one person, and he would let thousands suffer to see Feferi smile again.

==>

“Why do I have to do this?” Dave asked.

“Because you shot out of her womb eighteen years ago—”

“ _Gross, bro._ ”

“—and because I fucking said so. Could you  _try_ to be excited to meet your mom?”

“Rose’s mom,” Dave corrected almost immediately. “She’s Rose’s mom.”

Dirk sighed. “We already talked about this. One of you was guaranteed to die if she kept you both.”

“I died anyway,” Dave said bitterly.

Dirk’s shoulders tensed as he walked, but his face remained blank. “Don’t be a shithead, Dave,” he murmured, but there was no bite to his tone. “She hasn’t touched a bottle in weeks. She doesn’t need your attitude right now. Could you  _please_ not be a massive asshole to my niece?”

“Fine,” Dave promised. He didn’t think his bro—er, great uncle or…whatever the fuck—cared so much about Roxy. “What do I even  _call_ her?”

“How should I know?” Dirk hissed under his breath.

They cut the conversation off as they approached the park where they had agreed to meet. Not the one Dave had been dragged through when…not that one. The gigantic one further in the city. The four of them—Dirk, Dave, Rose, and Roxy—had compromised to meet slightly before sunset, since daylight was such a drain on Dave’s energy. Dave was grateful he wouldn’t have to deal with the nausea of being out in the sun much longer, but his nerves would still be there once night settled in. He shoved his hands in his pockets to hide his anxiety.

Rose and Roxy were already waiting for them at the edge of the park.

“Hello, Dave,” Rose greeted calmly.

“Sup, Rox,” Dirk said casually.

Dave nodded at Rose, while Roxy gave Dirk a wide smile. Dave wasn’t sure whether he’d just imagined Dirk shrink back the tiniest bit. The cracks in his bro’s mask were more noticeable with his improved senses. It was unsettling to be reminded so easily that Dirk actually had a heart.

Rose filled the extended silence with apparent ease. “I’m looking forward to learning more about the supernatural, as we previously discussed.” Despite the tension, her pulse was normal. Dave could hear Roxy’s heart racing nervously.

“Good as my word,” Dirk replied smoothly. He gestured with a gloved hand to the line of stores across from the park. “Where do you wanna shoot the shit?”

As Rose and Dirk edged away, Dave realized he was intentionally being left alone with Rose’s mother. Damn it, Dirk could have at least warned him! Or Rose, the dirty traitor!  _Fuck._ The older woman was staring at him now with her bright pink eyes. The fuck was he supposed to do now? He thanked whatever fucking powers-that-be for the aviators hiding the tightness around his eyes. His hands were shaking inside his pockets. That had been a good call.

“They didn’t tell me, either,” Roxy admitted with a nervous giggle. “Probably for the same reason, knowing them.”

“To fuck with us?” Dave guessed with a weak smirk.

Roxy smiled. “Yup.”

Dave tried to let his shoulders relax. “One point for Team Headgames, I guess.”

“Pfft, they would probably love that name,” Roxy said. “So, would you rather walk and talk or sit somewhere?”

Dave shrugged. “I guess walking sounds good.”

Apparently, Roxy had stealthily pried some details out of Rose over the years in addition to what Dirk had been telling her. She would mention one of Dave’s interests and let him expand on that, then move on to the next. She listened to every single word like it was the goddamn gospel, and Dave couldn’t help how nice it felt to know that she actually gave a damn. So, he kept talking about himself, kept avoiding the question he wanted to ask and definitely should not bring up anyway. He picked a few choice memories from grade school to make her laugh, like the time he dared John to shoot milk out of his nose and they were both sent to the principal’s office for making a mess because John refused to do it alone so naturally Dave joined in on his own stupid dare. Roxy’s laughter was full and sincere as she listened to his childhood antics. He told a few more stories before noticing the expression on her face had changed from amused to thoughtful.

“Was the story with the crow too much?” Dave asked, tensing up again. Wow, he hadn’t realized how relaxed he had been.

Roxy smiled warmly and shook her head. “No, it’s just…all your stories seem to have something in common.” She looked at Dave expectantly.

Dave ran through what he had told her so far, but they all seemed rather disparate. “I give, what is it?”

Roxy laughed, but it was short and sad. “You don’t even consider him as separate, do you? Your friend John, sweetheart. He was in every story.”

“…Oh.” He bit back a remark about her calling him ‘sweetheart’, specifically because he promised not to be a jackass. Yep, no other reason.

“You talk about him the way…” Roxy trailed off, blushing. “Dirk said John was the boy that—when you first—”

Dave nodded neutrally. “Yeah, he came to check on me. He was worried…but he’s fine.” John was better than fine; he was in perfect fucking health. Why did Dave feel so defensive all of a sudden? He realized they had stopped walking. “What else did Dirk say?” He was going to rip the fucker a new asshole if—

“Only that you two were, in his words, ‘finally fucking dating’,” Roxy quoted, but her humor was clearly forced now.

“You’re worried I’m going to hurt him.” Dave’s tone made it clear she had no business in this conversational territory.

Roxy frowned for the first time during their talk. “You were taught restraint by the most infuriatingly stone-faced motherfucker on the planet, and you think I’d doubt your control around your best friend?”

All Dave could do was blink in surprise. Had she just said ‘motherfucker’?

“Dave,” Roxy continued in a softer tone. “I’m worried he’s going to hurt  _you_ .”

Now Dave was legitimately confused. “How?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to venture into this topic at all.

Roxy just shook her head. In strangely apologetic yet still motherly tone, she said, “Just remember that staying with you is his choice to make, okay? I know it’s not my place, but I’m not leaving this advice up to Dirk either.”

Dave understood what she was getting at, and she was damn right it wasn’t her place to say it. He grit his teeth and started the return trip to the park entrance. Roxy fell into step beside him, though she was nearly jogging to keep up. “You got to tell me something I didn’t want to hear,” Dave said. “So I guess it’s my turn.” He felt guilty at the slight flinch he caught in the corner of his eye, but his mouth barreled right on with it. “How did you choose who to give up?”

Roxy stopped walking again, and Dave turned to look back at her. Her face was a frigid version of Dirk’s practiced veil of calm. With his bro, there was an intensity that leaked through, but with Roxy, all he sensed beneath the surface was more ice. Her eyes were somewhere else as she thought over his question. Her gaze melted by the slightest margin when she looked him in the eyes and said, “I couldn’t, and I didn’t.”

==>

“So you actually asked her?” John was sitting across Dave’s lap as they lounged on one of the museum benches. He had quickly figured out how much Dave enjoyed feeling warm again, thus he took every opportunity to act as ‘the Human Torch,’ as he had cheesily put it. He was unexpectedly nonchalant about public displays of affection, for which Dave was grateful. He could use every inch of contact John offered right now.

They were on a bench in the museum because John had insisted they go on a 'real' date, and he had chosen the museum because he knew Dave liked old preserved things. They were in the middle of the paleontology wing. It had been one day since Dave had met Roxy. John was staring at Dave with concern in his blue eyes, waiting for an answer to his question.

Dave nodded and tossed his head back to stare at the far away ceiling. “Yeah, I asked,” he said eventually. “Said she didn’t choose.”

“But she had to have, right?” John pressed. “Otherwise, I’d have only ever met either you or Rose.” His face fell as he considered the scenario, and he put his head on Dave’s shoulder. “What do you think she meant?”

“Probably that she let Dirk choose for her,” Dave guessed. “I’m not going to ask. He’ll just make some wise crack about not wanting to deal with tampons or some shit.” He stared off into space until he started to focus on the reflection of his scarlet eyes on the inner surface of his shades. He blinked and turned his head to John, trying not to focus on the red. Heightened senses were a real bitch sometimes.

John gave Dave’s shoulders a gentle squeeze. He had that slight scrunch between his brows he got when he was thinking deeply. “I don’t think you should hold it against them,” John said after some time. “Forever’s a long time to hold a grudge.”

“Yeah,” Dave agreed dejectedly. He lowered his head to rest in John’s messy black hair. He hadn’t mentioned Roxy’s comment on their relationship, mostly because John was right. Forever was a long time.


	13. Payoff

John’s hands paused over the piano keys, and he turned to look at Dave, who was lounging on the floor, flipping through the pics on his phone. “Hey, Dave?”

“Sup?” Dave knew what that tone of voice meant. John had been thinking about something for days and was only just now bringing it up.

“Should we tell my dad? I mean, he already knows we’re dating, but I mean…about you?”

Dave sighed, mostly in relief. “Well, do you want Terezi to cut our heads off? ‘Cause that’s what’ll happen if we tell your dad.”

“What?! Why would she care?” John accidentally bumped a few of the higher keys in his distress, and Dave winced at the sudden noise. “Sorry,” John added hastily. He turned completely around in the seat to avoid repeating the blunder.

“It’s her job, dude,” Dave started to explain. “She’s on ‘the Jury’ or some shit. They don’t fuck around when it comes to people spilling the beans.”

“That’s stupid,” John argued. “What if my dad needs to protect himself from the spider bitch?”

Dave could only shrug. “I don’t think it’d do much good. Even if she shows up, and he _knows_ not to invite her in, you think that’s gonna stop her if she wants to hurt him? She reads minds and shit, dude.”

“That’s the opposite of comforting, Dave,” John said sternly. “And besides, Terezi hasn’t done anything about _me_ knowing about it.”

“Pretty sure I get a free pass with you because of the circumstances.” Dave carefully kept his mouth a neutral line as his memories of those ‘circumstances’ flashed in his head.

“Fair, I guess, but…she wouldn’t really…?” John’s hand drifted up to touch his neck fearfully.

“I’m serious, John. Terezi will straight up execute us. She made it pretty fucking clear.”

John frowned and crossed his arms indignantly. “Fine, but it’s still stupid.”

Dave sighed and decided to drop it. He was already running late, having lost track of time relaxing while John played his piano. Aradia was expecting him in five minutes, and it would take at least fifteen to reach the coroner’s if he left right the fuck now. “Gotta go,” he announced as he stood and brushed a kiss over John’s lips. “It’s my turn to pick up the ‘groceries’.”

For a second, it looked like John was going to argue, but instead he just huffed in disappointment and turned back to the piano. “Okay, be safe.”

“Safe is my middle name.”

“You don’t _have_ a middle name.”

“Touché.”

Dave closed the door to the house behind him and cocked an ear to make sure John was still playing the piano. Good. He held his breath and concentrated. _Thump…thump…_ There it was, coming from just behind the tree. Dave focused, felt the world slow down around him as he pushed off the front porch. He was on the intruder before they had time to see him. Unfortunately, they weren’t completely caught off guard. As he grabbed onto the stranger’s shirt, their hand shot out instinctively for his neck. _Fuck_.

 _‘Don’t let anyone get a good grip on you in a fight.’_ Dirk’s words echoed in Dave’s head as he was plucked from the ground and slammed against the tree trunk. _‘Your advantage is speed. Any vampire is strong enough to rip your head off if you let them get their hands on you.’_

 _FUCK._ Wonderful to know his head could still spin when it was bashed against something hard enough. When his vision came back into focus, he was looking into a pair of eyes the same color as his own, albeit from behind his shades. The stranger was significantly shorter, with short, messy black hair and an impressively pissy scowl. At least he hadn’t ripped Dave’s head off yet.

“You could have just fucking walked over and asked who the fuck I was,” the shadeless, red-eyed intruder said angrily. He pointedly released his grip on Dave’s neck and took a step back to glare at him critically. “What is your fucking problem, jumping me like an idiot? I could have decapitated you if I wanted.”

Dave kept his arms stiff at his sides, refusing to rub at the soreness surrounding his windpipe. “Why didn’t you then? And yeah—who the fuck are you?” He brushed the bark off the back of his shirt as he watched carefully for any sign of aggression from this creeper.

“I’m Karkat,” the other vampire said with an annoyed eyeroll. “Your sister asked me to look after you. More specifically, to look after your painfully nice human of a boyfriend.” He made a face like he’d been forced to eat too much chocolate.

It took Dave a stretched out second to realize Karkat was referring to Rose. Thinking of her as his sister was still new. “Look, that’s real nice of Rose, but John’s safety really isn’t her business. Does she seriously think I’m just going to fucking snap and exsanguinate him? And why do _you_ even care? You don’t know him.”

Karkat shrugged a bit sullenly. “She doesn’t consider you an immediate danger to him, so you can calm the fuck down about that. Christ, she was right.”

“Right about _what_?” Dave demanded. It dawned on him that he was snarling. Like an honest to fuck, full on, audible snarl. His voice was definitely a few volume cranks too high to pass as calm, and his fists were clenched at his sides.

Karkat raised his hands in front of him slightly, but kept his disdainful frown in place. “Would you fucking relax? She just asked me to keep his stupid, paper-thin human ass safe. And you can fuck right off if you want to know my reasons. You can call me his goddamn babysitter if it will amuse you.”

Dave took in a few deep breaths and tried to calm the hell down. “You expect me to believe you’re doing this out of the kindness of your heart?”

“No, I expect you not to bother me about my reasons and just accept that I’m interested in not letting your boyfriend die.”

“That sounds like complete bullshit.”

“Don’t you have a phone?”

Dave very nearly let out another snarl as he tore his phone from his jeans and shot Rose a scathing text. “God fucking damn it Rose,” he muttered when she snarkily confirmed Karkat’s purpose. “You know what? Fuck you. Both of you.” Dave shoved his phone back into his pocket and trudged away.

…

Karkat waited until Dave was out of sight before walking up to the porch and ringing the doorbell. John’s father was at work, and Dave had just left for the day. Now was the best time. Karkat sighed and did his best to wipe the glower from his face. He was still not sure how the Seer had managed to persuade him out of his perfectly comfortable hospital room. Why was he doing this?

John opened the door and shrank back a little, nearly closing it again when he caught sight of Karkat’s eyes. Right, out here people were unsettled by that. Karkat ignored the pang of insecurity and locked eyes with John, who was cautiously peeking through the crack he had left in the door. He would prefer to get this over with as quickly as possible. He placed the proper emphasis on his words, backing them with his rare gift of command.

“Invite me in.”

John’s face went blank and his posture became lax. He opened the door wide and robotically said, “Come in.”

==>

\--gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 11:36--

GG: hi rose!

GG: we should hang out soon so I can check out your new apartment

GG: :B

TT: Hello, Jade.

TT: I would like that very much.

TT: In fact, would you like to come over and have lunch with us in half an hour?

GG: that sounds great!!!!

GG: oh wait can I bring my friend with me?

GG: hehe shes braiding my hair right now

GG: i think you’ll like her :B

TT: Yes, that is perfectly fine.

TT: I look forward to meeting her.

GG: okay see you soon!!!!

\--gardenGnostic [GG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 11:39—

“Sounds booooooooring,” Aranea lilted.

Jade just giggled. “It’s rude to read over people’s shoulders,” she scolded half-heartedly.

Aranea scoffed. “It’s rude to twist your head like a viper when someone is trying to braid it.”

“Hey, you yanked really hard at the start!” Jade retorted defensively.

“Beauty is pain, Jade.” Aranea continued working her fingers down the final chunk of Jade’s hair, completing the set of eight long tendrils. “You’re not going to make me go to this snore-fest, are you? I have things to do.”

Jade spun around, now free to twirl her independent bits of hair. “The Lalondes are so _not_ a snore fest.”

Aranea jerked a little in surprise. “Lalondes?”

Jade nodded excitedly. “Yeah! Rose’s mom is this super smart mysterious science lady who works for the government or something, and Rose is really smart and snarky. You’d like her. She’s into creepy stuff too.”

Aranea seemed to be having trouble believing Jade, judging from the scrunched look on her face. It took her a moment to recover. “Spiders are not creepy, Jade,” she said finally, but a wide smile was splitting her face.

“I know, silly.” Jade spun around so her braids fanned out around her. “I just like teasing you. So, are you gonna come or what?”

“I think not.” Aranea walked over to place her hands on Jade’s shoulders.

“Um…Aranea, what are you doing?” Jade tried to gently wiggle out of Aranea’s hands but couldn’t.

“Just relax, Jade,” Aranea droned, staring intensely into Jade’s eyes.

Jade felt her muscles loosen, but she worried why Aranea was holding onto her like this.

“Now, listen very carefully.” Aranea cupped Jade’s chin in her hand and leaned in close, maintaining eye contact the whole time. “Good girl. Best friend. Listen closely. I need a favor.”

“Okay? This is really weir—”

“Hush,” Aranea ordered quietly, and Jade’s mouth snapped shut. Aranea continued to speak in that soft, authoritative voice. “Go get one of your rifles and load it.”

Jade wanted to ask why, but words seemed to refuse to leave her mouth. She couldn’t even make an unintelligible noise with her vocal chords. Oh God, what was happening?! Her feet carried her downstairs to the locked gun cabinet. She watched and felt her hand fish the key from her pocket and open the door. She spent no time deliberating on which gun to grab. She pulled the far left one from its setting and moved to the trunk where she kept her ammunition. She tried to stop herself from placing the bullets, but she couldn’t. Her hands were shaking, but they never stopped moving.

By the time Jade came back upstairs, she was a mess of tears and panic. “What did you do to me?” She squeezed new tears out of her eyes, relieved she could talk again.

Aranea put her hands on her hips. “Well, I’ll be honest, it wasn’t easy to get to this point. I spent months setting up that trigger to make sure you would do what I say. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to mimic the memory erasure effect. You’ll be remembering what I tell you to do.”

Jade sniveled and tried to glare at Aranea through her clouded vision. “I don’t understand. Why would you do this? _How?_ ”

“Well, the how is obvious, Jade. You’re not a simpleton. I’m clearly not human. And the why is the same as ever: I’m in this for the big payoff. You get to help me make sure I get there.”

“I don’t want to help you,” Jade cried. “Get out of my house! Let me go!”

“Hush,” Aranea said again, and Jade was rendered silent except for her sobs. “I have something very important for you to do.”


	14. Idle

\--tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TT] at 12:06--

TT: she is keeping the victims alive

TG: what the hell rose

TG: it’s the middle of the fucking day you know i was fucking sleeping

TG: and what is that even supposed to mean????

TG: you sure you didn’t mean to send my bro this shit

TG: this sounds like some vriska shit

TG: i told you im staying outta that so john doesn’t end up a smear on the fucking pavement

TG: also what the fuck is up with this weirdo creeper bodyguard you somehow coerced into looking after john

TG: not that i don’t appreciate the thought behind the gesture but the gesture is kinda fucking unsettling

TG: the guy is a total ass

TG: yo

TG: rose

\--tentacleTherapist is an idle chum!--

TG: the fuck

Several things felt very wrong here. First of all, Rose didn’t type like that. She maintained _perfect_ fucking grammar and shit all the time. Unless she was an actual emotional wreck, which Dave had only witnessed once before, and it had involved alcohol and several misspelled words. None of her words contained a typo. ‘she is keeping the victims alive’ was a coherent independent clause. Second, Rose had only ever become an idle chum during chat while she was physically ill and had to go vomit for several minutes. This also did not happen often, and she typed perfectly even with the most aggressive case of the flu. Third, Rose usually cut off Dave’s rants when important shit was going down, or she at least had a snark-filled rebuttal prepared for when he ran out of gas. Neither of those things had happened. Fourth, Dave was horribly certain that the message had to do with Vriska. Something was very wrong.

“Bro!” Dave heard the frame creak in protest as he nearly beat down the door to his brother’s bedroom.

Dirk grumbled angrily at the disturbance in his sleep. “What the fuck, Dave? It’s the middle of the day.”

“Get up,” Dave shouted through the door. He couldn’t keep the panic out of his voice. “Something’s wrong with Rose.”

He could hear the rapid shuffling of fabric as Dirk threw on clothes at lightning speed. The door opened and Dirk’s unshaded eyes stared at him intently. “What happened?”

Dave handed his phone to Dirk, showing him the message and explaining the anomaly. “I think something is seriously wrong.”

“Fine, let’s go check it out.”

==>

Dave, Dirk, and Terezi arrived at Rose and Roxy’s apartment building. A police car was parked nearby. Dave followed Dirk up the stairs with leaden feet. Terezi sniffed the air as they climbed the flights, poking her head into the hallways they passed on each floor. When they reached the floor of Roxy’s apartment, Dave felt like something was crushing his heart. The door was open and draped in Police Line tape. He could hear the snapping of a camera shutter and the low, serious voices of the investigators coming from inside. The smell of blood hung in the air, even from this far away.

Dave started to walk forward, refusing to believe it until he saw proof, but Terezi grabbed onto his shirt and pulled him back. He turned to yell at her, but the look on her face shut him up. She shook her head from side to side sharply, then leaned forward to listen to the conversation inside the apartment. After a few seconds, her grip on Dave’s clothes loosened, and it was his turn to shake his head as she gave him a pitying stare.

==>

“Rose is…but that doesn’t make any sense! I thought you said her mom had like super hiding powers or something!”

Dave placed his hands on John’s shoulders. Getting something like this to sink in for John was not going to be an easy process. “She found them anyway, John. We don’t know how, but she did. They’re gone.” There was that stupid itching feeling in his eyes again, like he would be bawling right now if his tear ducts still worked. His face was crinkled despite his efforts to smooth it out.

John’s waterworks were perfectly functional. The light danced through the tears welling up in his eyes as he shook his head vehemently back and forth. “Rose can’t be dead. Please tell me this is a prank.”

Dave pulled John into a tight hug and let him cry on his shoulder. “You know I’m not a prankster, John.”

John squeezed Dave almost hard enough to hurt. “Tell me you’re lying?”

Dave swallowed and took a deep breath. “The cops had us ID the…the bodies.”

“Stop—stop it.” John’s knees buckled, and Dave had to pull him over to the bed so he could sit down. “Don’t talk about them like that.” They leaned against the wall, John with his head tucked under Dave’s chin, Dave with his arms wrapped around John.

At least he could still quake with grief. His breathing was tortured, his chest rose and fell unevenly the same as John’s, who pressed closer against him to try to provide comfort, despite the uncontrollable shaking of his own body. Most of Dave’s concentration had to remain devoted to not hurting John, but he doubted he would have been able to hide how he felt anyway. Rose was gone, Roxy was gone, and Dirk hadn’t said a word since they had been to the coroners, not even to Aradia. Dave had at least managed to thank her for being there, for fuck’s sake. Terezi had promised to keep Dirk from doing anything idiotic while Dave told John the news.

“How did…? What happened to them?” John looked up at his reflection in Dave’s shades, clearly unsure of whether he really wanted an answer.

“She sent someone to shoot them,” Dave answered, barely keeping his words from shattering into unintelligible nonsense.

John’s eyes widened in shock before he closed them again to squeeze out more tears. “It’s not fair. Rose just got here! We—we were all going to the same school! You and me and Rose and Jade. We were going to be dumb and hang out and watch stupid movies and argue and make up and—and…” John’s voice faded into muffled sobs as he soaked the front of Dave’s shirt in tears.

Dave, for once, had run out of words. All he could do was hold John close and wish he didn’t have to focus on not chomping down on his best friend’s arteries on top of everything else.

For several minutes, John didn’t speak either. When he finally found his voice, it was stronger than Dave would have expected. “Dave?”

“Yeah?”

“Dave, I think you should help them find her.”

Dave scowled. “John—”

“No,” John argued angrily, pulling back to look firmly at the pair of sunglasses hiding Dave’s eyes. “She just gets to hurt more people the longer it takes to find her. You’re really fast. You could help.”

“If she finds out I’m helping—”

“I know, and I don’t care.” John’s face almost never looked this fierce. “Dave, we can’t just let her do whatever she wants because you’re scared of her hurting me. She killed _Rose_ . And your _mom_.”

“I _know,_ but—”

“Don’t give me fucking but’s,” John almost shouted. “You guys need to find her and wreck. Her. Shit. Okay?”

Dave stared at John’s determined face for a few long moments. “You sure?”

“Yes.” Not an ounce of doubt to be seen or heard. Shit, even his heartbeat was steady.

“All right,” Dave conceded. “First thing tomorrow, promise.”

Satisfied, John slumped back into Dave’s embrace. “We…we still have to tell Jade,” he whispered. Then his chest heaved with a few more violent breaths. “I think I ruined your shirt. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t give a shit about that,” Dave said softly. He rested his cheek in John’s hair and shivered from another empty sob. “…We can tell Jade later.”

==>

Jade tore furiously at her hair, ripping apart the braids and throwing the hair ties in the trashcan as if they were venomous snakes. She made no move for her hair brush. She slumped to the floor and leaned against the bathtub, a mess of frayed dark hair and sobs. Jade had never, ever hurt anyone before, and just like that, she had blown away one of her best friends and their mother. She couldn’t even force herself to walk slowly on the way there. She had spoken to no one, even though she could feel herself screaming beneath her calm exterior. She had wanted to at least stay long enough for the police to find her and arrest her, but Vriska had been prepared for that. Her instructions had sealed away any possibility for confession or escape.

When John had told her the news over the phone, her voice had sounded normal. Her reply was what John would have expected. Heartbroken, sincere, and comforting. Not regretful, guilty, or ashamed. Usually her friends could tell if she was lying. Her voice would gradually increase in volume while her words became more clipped, but she couldn’t even manage that. She wanted to beat her head against the porcelain of the tub until she knocked herself out, but she couldn’t. She wasn’t _allowed_ to hurt herself. _You will not communicate to anyone, in any way, the truth about me, or the things I tell you to do. You will make every effort not to get caught. You will neither hurt nor kill yourself, nor will you put yourself into situations that could lead to dying or getting caught. You will carry on as if nothing is wrong. Is that understood?_

The slap she’d laid on Vriska’s face had at least earned Jade some alone time. She wasn’t sure who she hated more, Vriska or herself. Why couldn’t she disobey? Every muscle, every part of her screamed in protest as she had pulled the trigger. The involuntary tears flowing from her eyes as she saw Rose’s horrified expression had been real. Her mother hadn’t even fired a shot in retaliation before Jade’s second bullet took her in the chest. Roxy had hesitated, been human, been in shock. Jade had been turned into a tool, a weapon, and she couldn’t even do such a simple thing as stop her finger from moving.

Jade started the water and climbed into the tub, too drained to stand in the shower. She soaked in the hot bath for what seemed like ages. More than once, she tried to drown, only to lurch out of the water as soon as her lungs started to cry for oxygen. She ran out of tears long before her hands started to wrinkle up. The dryness of her eyes didn’t stop the flashes of Rose and Roxy’s faces that kept playing over and over in her mind. She had only been able to briefly take in their blank stares. Her orders had explicitly stated to leave immediately after the murder was complete.

The table had been set for four, she remembered. Rose had been halfway through asking where Jade’s friend was when the bullet had hit—

 _I can’t do this._ Jade thought. _Just let me die._

After an exceptionally long soak, Jade pulled herself from the tub and dried her body off. She threw on something to sleep in and collapsed on the bed. She was a murderer. She was a traitor. She should have been able to stop herself. The thoughts kept swirling around in her mind. She dragged her knees up to her chin and held them there, her whole body shaking with fear and hate and grief.

The happy picture of her grandpa and his dog still sat on her nightstand. She reached out and tipped it over to lay face down. She turned her head away from it in shame.

“I wish you were here, Grandpa.”


	15. Time

1 Week ==>

Finally got the bodies released. Took them fucking long enough. With all the relatives dead or…undead, a funeral and burial didn’t seem too pointed. The ashes were stored side by side in some fancy mausoleum. Dave was certain Dirk hadn’t gone to see them. His bro spent all night and most of the daylight hours sweeping the city for any sign of Vriska’s body stash. John practically had to drag Dave to go visit what was left of Rose and Roxy. Then John practically had to carry Dave on their way out.

2 Weeks ==>

Dave didn’t spend as much time searching as Dirk, but he did his part. Terezi assigned him locations and he went over them. Dirk still wasn’t talking. John was still having trouble accepting that Rose was gone. Jade was disturbingly distant. Dave, by some miracle, was actually dealing with it the best. Rose and the woman-who-would-have-been-his-mother were gone, and it hurt, whether he could cry for them or not. He couldn’t do jack shit to bring them back, and holy fuck he was _not_ diving into vengeance like his emotionally crippled older bro…but trying to find all those poor people the spider bitch had stored away seemed like a worthy way to preoccupy himsel—what the fuck. Since when was he so well-adjusted. Shit, this was a bad sign for everyone else. Though in John’s defense at least, he had never lost anyone so close. Dave honestly wasn’t sure what was up with Jade. She had handled the death of her grandpa better than this, if memory served. (And it should. Dave had an excellent memory, though he didn’t flaunt it.)

4 Weeks ==>

The time came to move into the dorms, a good five hours away by car. Dirk had thrown the keys to a UHAUL at Dave. He had muttered something like “Go live your life before it looks suspicious,” and that was that. Dave and John joined Jade on campus. Mr. Egbert had teared up a little and given John a tender fatherly embrace and everything. Terezi popped in to remind Dave to keep a full stomach around all the horny college students. “The pheromones can get to you,” she’d said with a suggestive grin. John was getting better, though he’d had a good cry on day one, being reminded Rose couldn’t be there. Karkat lurked around, honoring Rose’s request, but Dave had no fucking idea how the creep had just up and moved. He knew the fucker wasn’t registered for classes. What the hell was this guy’s angle?

6 Weeks ==>

John seemed back to normal, but Jade was still eerily incommunicado and kept making excuses not to hang out. She would blame her class load, or her job as an RA, and fuck if Dave was going to be the one to approach her. She was liable to bite his head off. Jade would get over this eventually. She was strong. John had shifted his stress onto the difficulty of his biology course, which he had quickly realized was a weed-out class for in-major students. Dave, having taken only courses that sounded interesting—because fuck it, he was a vampire, why not take what sounded most appealing—had little to stress over, so he helped John study. The small chunk of life he still had access to felt like it was on track for a change. He avoided thinking about how long it would be before the age difference was noticeable.

12 Weeks ==>

“Hey, Dave?”

Dave looked up from his laptop, but John was keeping his eyes on his own computer. “Sup,” Dave said cautiously. John only avoided eye contact when he was nervous or upset about something.

“Do you think we should invite Karkat to like…hang out?”

“Nope,” Dave responded immediately.

John rolled his eyes and glared at Dave. “Oh come on, he can’t be that bad.”

“The guy is inexplicably determined to keep an eye on you for my dead sister,” Dave argued. “I don’t trust him.”

Though John flinched slightly at the mention of Rose, he stubbornly pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I’m texting him anyway.”

Dave let out a frustrated huff and turned back to his laptop. “Whatever.” A minute later, he heard the vibration of John’s phone.

“Geez, talk about verbose,” John muttered, then he took a deep preparatory death. “He says, ‘I am not here to socialize with you pathetically awkward barely post pubescent’—“hey! We’re eighteen!”—“‘virginal teenagers’.” Slight, noticeable pause. “‘Don’t bother me, and let me keep my promise. Believe it or not, I _do_ actually have people to talk to besides you fuckers’.”

“If by ‘people’, he means he only ever talks to Terezi,” Dave scoffed. “Told you, the guy’s a headcase.”

A few more minutes passed.

“Hey, Dave?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think Jade is going to be okay?”

Dave sighed and picked up his laptop to go sit with John on his bed. “I don’t know,” Dave said as he settled against John’s shoulder. He hadn’t missed how John had closed about three browser tabs as he’d walked over. “That really what you’re so uptight about?”

John tensed, then laughed weakly. “No. Now I feel kinda bad that it isn’t though.” He frowned and looked back at his computer screen.

Another few minutes passed. Dave took a swig from his “coffee” thermos.

“H-hey…Dave?” John shifted against his shoulder.

This time Dave couldn’t help his smirk. “That’s my name.”

John stuck out his tongue. “Smartass.” He took a deep breath. “So, can I just see your eyes already?” His fingers twitched but his hands remained on his keyboard. John wouldn’t just reach up for Dave’s shades and rip them off. Not that he even _could_ , but it was important that he hadn’t tried. “I’ve kind of already snuck a few peeks, but…” He trailed off and looked away, blushing.

Dave snorted, but he wasn’t eager to comply. “You sure you can handle it?” He had tried for sarcasm, but the question came out quiet, almost indirect.

John placed his laptop off to the side and turned to face Dave seriously. “I’m not going to freak out, I promise.”

Fuck, saying no to those goddamn puppy eyes was impossible. Did he practice this shit or something? Dave wondered how long John had waited to ask for this. He sighed and slowly reached for his shades, bracing himself for John’s reaction. It wasn’t easy, considering how god damned _excited_ John looked right then.

Dave paused with the frame held between his fingers. “Promise?” That came out a bit shakier than intended.

John just nodded and smiled his big doofy, reassuring smile.

Dave sighed and reluctantly pulled off his shades. His eyes adjusted to the lighting change in half a blink. He looked at John, whose jaw had become slack, his mouth hanging open in what Dave sincerely hoped was awe. John closed his mouth and with this frustratingly unreadable expression, took Dave’s face in his hands, and kissed him.

“I told you I wouldn’t freak out,” John said softly. He leaned back slightly to stare at Dave’s eyes some more. “They’re really pretty.”

“Oh my god, John,” Dave tried to tease, but he was smiling wide, which only made John giggle at the rare sight. “You’re such a fucking sap.”

Dave shoved his computer from his lap and gently tackled John onto the ridiculous heap of pillows on the twin-sized bed. Well, realistically, everything Dave did with John was gentle, relatively speaking, but it would have been that way even if he were still human. Hell, just look at that face, and those eyes, and that stupid shit-eating grin. How could you do anything but fucking treasure that shit? For a moment, John seemed to be taking in the smile on Dave’s face, then he laughed and pulled Dave down for another kiss. Dave considered full-on sloppy make outs, but instead he pulled back, slid down a little, and rested his head against John’s chest. He did this sometimes, just to listen to John’s heartbeat and feel his warmth. John fucking loved this sappy shit, and he knew it helped Dave concentrate. John ran his hand through Dave’s hair like usual, but then his heartbeat sped up. He was still nervous about something.

Dave was about to ask what was wrong when John spoke, in the lamest voice ever, “I mean, it’s not like I was gonna do the do with you with your shades on.”

 _Jesus H Christ, WHAT?_ “Okay hold up.” _Breathe, Dave. I know you don’t need to but…FUCK._ “One: that was the worst segue _ever_ .” _Yup, just keep your head right where it is. No eye contact. Nope._ “Two: …are you sure?” _Damnit, I said no eye contact. Shit his eyes are so fucking precious. Shit shit shit._

John did his best to look serious, but his face was quickly turning red and he was clearly fighting a smile. His heart was still trying to outpace a hummingbird’s wings, but he somehow managed this beautiful, sincere “Yes” that made Dave feel like he was floating. “Um…that is a thing we can do, right? I mean, it’s safe, or whatever?”

Dave chuckled. Sex was right where it had always been on the hierarchy of sensation; it was just much lower than the newest category. Being _that_ close to John, however, was second to nothing. “Yeah, we can,” Dave confirmed. He pulled back from the resulting round of kisses John tried to initiate. “Wait…like, right now?” How did his voice get so embarrassingly high so easily?

John gave him an exasperated look, which was spoiled by the ridiculous redness in his face. “Yeah, this was kind of what I was building up to all day. Why not now?”

Dave shrugged. “I dunno, I just figured you would want to like, mark the fucking occasion or something. Make it special and shit. I was starting to think you weren’t into this at all, to be honest.”

John gave him another in the long line of breathtaking grins. “Of course I am,” he promised. “Just…only for someone who matters. Newsflash, Dave: you matter. And it _is_ special, because it’s you.”

Dave groaned at the awkwardness. “Oh my god, _stop_ . You’re the biggest fucking dork, I fucking swear. You do not get to make our first time this embarrassing. Jesus, _fuck_.”

John sat up a little amidst the lump of pillows surrounding them. “‘Our’? I thought that you and Jade…”

Dave rolled his eyes—which he had forgotten John could see—and made a disgusted face. “Couldn’t go through with it. Jade’s pretty and all, but the door only ever swung one way.”

John blinked in surprise. “Oh,” was all he said.

“Look, I know it was shitty of me, okay?” Dave cast his gaze at a pillow above John’s head. “It was just…our school was…y’know? I apologized to her…”

“Dave.” John reached up to hold Dave’s face in his hands again. He leaned forward to kiss Dave’s nose, all starry-eyed and sappy. “Don’t worry about it.”

Dave flashed a smile that he knew would make John melt and pulled the covers over both of them. “Worry about what?” Dave asked with fake confusion.

John’s heartbeat sped up again, and the red crept back into his cheeks. “Exactly,” he managed with a shaky breath. Dave reached up to pluck John’s glasses free, setting them carefully on the nightstand. “H-hey!” But Dave cut off John’s protest with another kiss.

“You’re _near_ -sighted, you doof,” Dave explained, then he leaned forward to breathe into John’s ear. “I promise to stay close enough for you to see me.”

Kissing John’s neck was clearly an excellent idea. The catch in his breath really spoiled his rebuttal. “Total ch-cheeseball…ha—nnn…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SEX SCENE CAN BE READ [HERE](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3493166).
> 
> (And in case y'all were wondering: yes, John is demi in this fic.)


	16. Jack Shit

“Dirk, I need to speak with you.” Aradia’s voice carried the faintest edge, and he should have known better than to ignore it.

He tried to ignore her anyway. He was just going to take his weekly supply and leave. The door slammed itself shut before him, blocking his path. Well shit, she was using her telekinesis.

“What,” Dirk growled. The styrofoam box crackled in his hands, giving him away.

“You’re going to break if you keep this up,” Aradia warned. He could feel her deep red eyes burning into his back.

“That’s not something I do.”

Phantom hands spun him around to face the short woman. Aradia glared at him openly. He knew he should be worried; she didn’t usually look anything but serene. “You’ve been sleeping once a week, pulling double patrols. Regardless of John’s assent with what we are doing, _you_ seem perfectly fine with the risk to Dave’s stability. Karkat can't truly keep John safe. Terezi _will_ have to kill Dave if he breaks.”

Dirk looked over Aradia’s head when he spoke. “I know that.”

“Do you care?”

“I can’t afford to.”

Dirk grunted in pain as he was flung across the room to slam against the sharp corners of the filing cabinets. “You are too preoccupied with the dead.” That was a dangerous tone, when she spoke just above a whisper. It was easy to forget that Aradia didn't fuck around, until you were being flung around like a goddamn ragdoll.

“What was I supposed to do? Put the search on hold because all but one last piece of my family was gone?” This was not a smart or wise course of action. He shouldn’t be yelling. He didn’t yell. Staying on the floor seemed like a good option.

Aradia huffed in frustration, but her voice was gentle. “You could have talked to me. To Dave. You could have tried dealing with it instead of pretending to be heartless.”

“Who’s pretending?” Dirk scoffed feebly.

“I could rip your heart from your chest,” Aradia offered, and maybe he wished she would. Her expression softened. “I know it’s there.”

“Congratulations,” Dirk muttered at the floor. “You got me. Can I go now, _Mom_?” He felt a twinge of guilt when she winced at his word choice.

“You’ve always tried so hard to be the Tin Man. I’d hoped you would outgrow it on your own.” Aradia sighed and reached for her keys. “Come with me.”

Not much point in protesting; she would just levitate his ass if he refused. Dirk picked himself up and dejectedly followed Aradia to her car. His eyes widened in shock when he saw what was sitting on the armrest between the two front seats.

“Where did you get this?” Dirk asked levelly as he took his place in the passenger seat.

He stared at the familiar puppet with its polished blue eyes and clashing outfit. The clothes were different, but still true to the original set. Aradia offered Cal to him, and he snatched the toy up immediately.

“I went looking for him shortly after Rose and Roxy passed,” Aradia explained. “He was in poor shape, buried under your old home. His head was mainly what was left. The rest I had to complete from memory. The clothes…well, I thought you would like the modernization.” She put the car in gear and pulled out of the parking lot.

“Where are you dragging my ass, exactly?” Dirk slouched low in his seat, staring out the window with an arm around his old puppet.

“The graveyard,” Aradia answered promptly. She frowned at Dirk’s slight flinch.

“This isn’t your job,” Dirk protested stubbornly. “It’s not like you’re held accountable if I snap. They stopped doing that ages ago.”

“Your family—and you—would have been safe if it weren’t for _my_ sister,” Aradia insisted. “So just humor me, please.”

“Fine.”

They parked in the grass, just off the narrow dirt road that ran through the cemetery, and climbed the hill to Jake and Jane’s tombstone. Dirk carried Cal with him. He stared as stoically as possible at Jake’s name. Stoically as possible meaning his breathing was unsteady and he was wrinkling Cal’s shirt he was gripping so hard.

“Would you like me to leave?” Aradia asked.

“No.”

Aradia nodded and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I am sorry you missed out on this.”

Dirk shook his head, even smirked a little for her benefit. “On what? Dying of old age? It was this or die right there. I was bleeding out, remember? Senility wasn’t on the table to begin with.”

Aradia rolled her eyes. “You were dying. Just because I detailed the consequences doesn’t mean you were in a state of mind to make an informed decision.”

“Whatever. I don’t hate you for it.”

“I know. I’m still sorry.”

“I’d like to know why you even offered, though.”

“I’ve told you before. I spent the majority of my existence cleaning up after my sister. I should have noticed when she lost herself. I should have been prepared to stop her…I panicked.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“You should.”

“Stop that.”

“Fine.” Aradia gestured to Jane’s name, carved into the dark polished stone. “Did you hate her?”

“…No,” Dirk eventually admitted. “Jane was too fucking _nice_ to hate. _Envy_ would be a better word.” He sat down in the grass, and Aradia joined him.

“You shouldn’t envy the dead,” Aradia advised.

“Why the hell not?” Dirk demanded. He ignored the crack in his voice and continued. “What do they have to worry about? Jack shit, that’s what.”

Aradia smoothed her skirt. “They worry about you,” she whispered.

Dirk’s head snapped around. “What?”

“The dead,” Aradia clarified. “They worry about the living. And us.” She gave the tombstone this look like she wanted to hug it. Dirk’s skin crawled at the sight.

“You can’t know that.” He’d known her for nearly a century. There was no way he hadn’t put this together.

Aradia closed her eyes. “I can, and I do.” She put a hand to her ear. “Sadly, there are no words, but the emotion is clear.”

“You would have told me sooner if you could feel dead people’s emotions,” Dirk argued.

“Would I really?” Aradia gave him a critical look. “If you had known what I could do right away, what would you have done?”

Dirk looked back at her through his shades, considering his answer. He hated how she rooted the truth out of him like one of her damned archaeology digs. “I would have asked you to use it. Probably never would have stopped asking.”

Aradia nodded in agreement, satisfied with his honest answer. “You see your problem now?”

Dirk let out an empty laugh. “I only have the one?”

Aradia wrapped an arm around Dirk’s shoulders. It looked a bit ridiculous for her tiny arm to be offering comfort when he was over a head taller, but Dirk didn’t lean away. She always knew when he needed a swift kick in the ass. And when he didn’t.

==>

“Welcome back, Eridan!” Vriska cheered. “Let’s fucking party!” She had her most attractive thralls dancing mechanically on the hard stone floor to music playing on an old phonograph. A filled wine glass sloshed in her hand, and she was grinning wide.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Eridan asked skeptically.

“I just ran the numbers,” Vriska lilted. She must have had them drink alcohol before feeding from them. “With a few extra nabs, we are on schedule to do the ritual on—guess when?—Thanksgiving Eve!” She cackled with alarming glee. “Isn’t it just _perfect?_ ”

Eridan sighed and clapped his hands at a slow, mocking pace. “Hooray.”

Vriska made a disgusted sound and glared at him. “Eridan, you might not appreciate the poetic timing, but you could at least be happy we’re so close!”

“I am happy we’re almost done, Vris,” Eridan assured her. “Except I spotted the older Strider snooping around two blocks away not five minutes ago. So forgive me if my excitement is a bit clipped.”

Vriska frowned and tilted her head to the side, considering. “Well, let’s make sure they have something besides us to deal with that evening, shall we?”

==>

\--gallowsCalibrator [GC] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 18:43--

GC: FOR TH3 R3CORD, 1 H4TE YOUR PL4N

GC: 1 DON’T TRUST H1M

GC: WHY DO YOU??

CG: HE HASN’T CHANGED. HE’S ALWAYS BEEN DEVOTED LIKE A GOOD LITTLE ACOLYTE TO THE CHURCH OF FEFERI.

CG: HE’S USING VRISKA TO GET WHAT HE WANTS. WE’RE GOING TO USE THAT FACT AS FAR AS IT WILL FUCKING CARRY US. AND I GUARANTEE IT WILL GO PRETTY DAMN FAR. HELL, IF IT WEREN’T IMPOSSIBLE, I’D BET THE IDIOT MIGHT ACTUALLY TRY TO GIVE FEFERI THE MOON.

CG: FOR THIS INANE COURT RECORD YOU ENJOY ALLUDING TO, I DON’T TRUST HIM EITHER. I AM COUNTING ON HIS BLIND DEVOTION TO SEE US THROUGH THIS. FEFERI HATES VRISKA. ERIDAN WILL DEFINITELY KILL HER FOR FEFERI.

CG: IF GETTING VRISKA KILLED MEANS HELPING US, I AM WILLING TO TAKE WHATEVER ADVANTAGE HE IS WILLING TO GIVE.

CG: AND IT’S OUR ONLY CERTAIN AVENUE TO FINDING HER IN TIME.

GC: YOU R34L1Z3 H3 W4NTS TH3 POW3R JUST 4S MUCH 4S SH3 DO3S.

CG: I DIDN’T SAY I WAS HAPPY WITH THE CIRCUMSTANCES, DID I?

CG: I AM FULLY FUCKING AWARE HE WON’T TELL US JACK SHIT UNTIL HE IS POISED TO USE THE THING FOR HIMSELF.

CG: WE HAVE TO BE READY TO STOP HIM.

CG: HAVE YOU TALKED TO FEFERI?

GC: Y3S

GC: SH3 1S…R3LUCT4NTLY ON BO4RD, 4S SH3 PUT 1T.

GC: SH3 KNOWS H3’S D4NG3ROUS. SH3 D1DN’T M4K3 1T P4ST TH3 M1LL3N1UM M4RK BY R3FUS1NG TO DO WH4T’S N3C3SS4RY.

GC: 1 ST1LL DON’T L1K3 1T.

CG: NO ONE FUCKING LIKES THIS, TEREZI. WE’RE OUT OF OPTIONS.

GC: 1 KNOW.

GC: WHY 1S H3 SUDD3NLY T4LK1NG TO YOU 4NYW4Y??

CG: …DEFINE SUDDENLY.

GC: 4R3 YOU FUCK1NG K1DD1NG M3

GC: NOW 1 L1K3 TH1S 3V3N L3SS

CG: CALM YOUR SHIT, OKAY? JESUS FUCK. THE GUY ISN’T MADE OF EVIL, YOU KNOW.

CG: JUST DEAL WITH IT AND BE READY TO DO WHAT NEEDS TO BE DONE.

GC: F1N3.

\--gallowsCalibrator [GC] ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 18:55--

==>

“Dave.”

John was sweating bullets, and they were only fifteen minutes into the trip home for Thanksgiving. They had to take the bus, since John’s dad still had to work that day, and Dirk didn’t own a car. Jade had ‘accidentally’ taken the bus that departed three hours earlier, apologizing and citing her forgetfulness as an excuse. Dave wondered what was up with her. She outgrew her colored bands phase years ago.

“Yeah, John?”

“Dave, he’s gonna _know_ . Everyone’s gonna _know_.”

“Know _what?_ ” Dave knew exactly what, but this was some comedy gold right here.

John glared at him. “ _You know,”_ he whispered, glancing around at the other people on the bus. “That we, you know, do the sex thing.”

Dave startled the lady two rows in front of them with his chortle. Then he gasped dramatically and cast about in fake shock. “Not the s-word!” He said it loud enough to catch a few glances—most of them amused—and John grimaced at the volume.

“That’s not funny, Dave,” he said shakily. “What’s he going to think? What’s everyone going to think?”

“Probably that we’re homo as fuck, dude.” He ruffled John’s hair. “But they kinda already knew that.”

John squirmed out from under Dave’s hand and crossed his arms. “Dave, that’s not what I’m worried about.” He groaned in preemptive chagrin. “What if he asks if we’re ‘ _being safe’_? What if your bro teases the fuck out of me? What if—”

“Look,” Dave interrupted. “Those are things that are probably going to happen, so you’re gonna have to prepare for it.”

“Okay sure, but what if my dad’s…”

“Disappointed?” Dave flinched a little at John’s sad nod, but he kept talking anyway. “John, has your dad, at any point in your life—aside from the handful of times you got sent to the principal’s office and that one really lame April Fool’s prank in middle school— _ever_ been fucking _disappointed_ in your life choices?”

“Well…no, I guess.” Some of the worry faded from John’s face.

Dave slung his arm over John’s shoulders and pulled him close. “So don’t worry about it, don’t talk about it, and we’ll all ignore it, like people do.”

John sighed and let Dave have his awkwardly-angled bus seat cuddles. “All right. I’ll try.”

==>

\--arachnidsGrip [AG] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG] at 12:08--

AG: Happy Thanksgiving, Jade!!!!!!!!

GG: GO FUCK YOURSELF

AG: Wow, rude.

GG: rude

GG: RUDE?!?!?!?!

GG: You’re a monster. You don’t deserve jack shit from me.

AG: Shut up and listen Jade.

GG:

AG: That’s better.

AG: I have a special job for you, and you don’t even have to miss your family gathering to do it!

AG: Isn’t that so nice of me?

AG: All you have to do is bring your special little cue ball with you to dinner at the Egbert’s.

AG: This is going to be such a wonderful Thanksgiving.

\--arachnidsGrip [AG] ceased pestering gardenGnostic [GG] at 12:12--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's about to go down.


	17. Broken

Ah yes, Thanksgiving Day.

Mr. Joel Egbert had been planning this feast for months. This time, every dish would be cooked to perfection, baked or not. He would not suffer the embarrassment of some choice previous years, which had involved the stove top and the fire department. No sir. Not this time. All told, he was a rather weak cook when a dish did not involve the oven. However, he had been practicing diligently with the non-oven-related kitchen features ever since John had gone off to college. He had taken to watching cooking shows, though he disliked the ones with all the cutthroat tactics and the yelling.

He was quite aware his new obsession likely stemmed from empty-nest syndrome, but it had been a rewarding experience nonetheless. He could fry bacon to _just_ the right consistency now, as well as prepare an excellent stir fry, if he said so himself, and he did.

Jade had arrived ahead of the boys by two hours. Clearly something was wrong; the poor girl looked like she hadn’t gotten a decent night’s sleep in months. She had hugged him tightly and immediately excused herself to the guest room, claiming she was drained from a tough exam the day prior. As Joel finished setting the table for everyone, he noted how few places were needed this year. The table had needed only one of the two extension panels from the basement.

Joel stared wistfully at the table. He remembered that first Thanksgiving without his brother and his wife. They had only just celebrated Jade’s birth when they had been torn away. Their chairs and plates had disappeared, but Jade’s had been added. He had adopted John that year, too. He remembered planning play dates for John and Jade, just before…Two places lost, two gained, but the loss had come too soon. Joel’s parents had raised Jade. It had been Grandpa and Nanna who dropped her off to play, not Uncle Jude or Aunt Mary. Joel sighed. It would always hurt.

Joel shook his head to stave off a few tears. He had been so excited when young John had suggested the Lalondes and Striders join them for Thanksgiving. They don’t have a big family either, John had said. Joel couldn’t pretend he didn’t love the idea of filling the house with friends for the holiday. Losing his mother, then his father a few years later, had been hard, but the others had been there for his family. Even Dirk had offered a few surprisingly eloquent condolences. But then Roxy and Rose, and the awful way they had died… Too few places at the table again. Joel adjusted his tie and allowed himself a slight sniffle before approaching Jade’s room.

He knocked gently on the door with his usual “shave and a haircut” rhythm.

“Jade, may I come in?”

A few moments of silence. “Y-yes.”

Joel poked his head into the room. “Can I get you anything?” Her shoulders were still shaking. What on earth could be wrong?

Jade kept her face angled away from the door. “No, I’m fine.”

It sounded strangely convincing, like she was certain of it, as if she _must_ be certain she was all right. Joel sighed and walked over to sit gently on the edge of the bed. “You can talk to me, Jade.”

“I…I know,” Jade said, but she stayed silent. She merely shook her head and looked down at her hands.

Only then did Joel notice: she was holding an old picture of her grandfather. A few tear drops had fallen onto the glass.

Joel removed his hat and fiddled pointlessly with the crease on the top. “I know a lot of things don’t seem very fair,” he said softly. “But he wouldn’t want you to stay so sad for so long.”

Jade’s hands were trembling as she looked down at the picture. She seemed to be struggling to speak, as if her words kept getting jumbled just before she said them.

“I just want it to stop,” Jade whispered harshly. She threw her arms around her uncle and resumed sobbing.

Joel supported Jade’s sudden weight with little difficulty. She had not been eating enough, he could tell too easily. When he hugged her, he could feel her ribs, even through the fabric of her hoodie.

“Jade, I know you miss them all so much,” Joel said. “So do I. It will get better, I promise.”

Within a few minutes, Jade had clearly worn herself out crying. “I think…I think I’ll just sleep for a little bit,” she mumbled.

Joel nodded and left Jade to her nap, gently closing the door behind him. He looked up numbers for therapists on his phone. Jade needed help. He created an alarm to remind himself to make a few calls tomorrow morning, then resumed his preparation for dinner.

==>

“How long will you be able to keep the food down?”

“Relax, John,” Dave said. “I’ve got like a two hour window or so, I think. I can always just go upchuck in a dumpster and be back before your old man even notices I’m gone.”

“What about Dirk?”

Dave shrugged. “He’s been doing this for _years_ . It’ll be _fine_. Chill out.”

“I just feel bad making you guys vomit,” John grumbled. “I mean, I know Dirk’s been doing it for ages, but isn’t it kinda shitty feeling?”

“I dunno,” Dave said thoughtfully. “The nostalgia is nice, even if it just tastes like dirt now.”

“Dirt?! That’s awful.” John’s shoulders slumped. “Now I feel even worse.”

Dave slipped his arm around John’s waist as they walked. He smiled when John leaned into him as best he could without falling on his face.

“Would you just learn to stop worrying and enjoy Thanksgiving?”

John rolled his eyes and chuckled quietly. “That was a shitty reference, Dave,” he chided.

“Whatever, you liked it,” Dave argued. “Strangelove will never not be appropriate.”

“That’s fair.” John smiled and kissed Dave on the cheek. The tiny surge of heat had Dave grinning involuntarily, which only made John smile even wider.

They reluctantly separated when they reached the house, both to avoid anyone being uncomfortable and to decrease the odds of certain topics being brought up.

John’s dad greeted them at the door, giving each of them a hug.

“Dave, you’re freezing,” Mr. Egbert commented. “Go grab a blanket and choose a movie while I have John help me in the kitchen.”

Dave complied for appearance’s sake and tossed a random DVD into the player. He smirked when he overheard the inevitable fatherly concern conversation John had been dreading. It lasted a grand total of thirty seconds. He could hear Jade snoring in the guest room. He resolved to confront her later, maybe on Friday or Saturday.

He heard Dirk’s footsteps long before he reached the porch. Dave opened the door without making a noise. “Sup,” he murmured just loud enough for Dirk to hear.

“Sup lil’ man,” Dirk replied just as softly. “How’s college?”

Dave shrugged at the filler question. “Easy. How’s the search going?”

“We’ll get her soon,” Dirk promised. He took in a deep breath and let it out almost violently. Then he reached out and wrapped Dave in a real, solid hug.

Dave jolted in surprise at first, but slowly moved his arms to reciprocate. “Bro, we don’t hug,” he stated with obvious alarm.

“I know.” Dirk let go and resumed his usual indifference, striding smoothly into the kitchen.

Dave briefly wondered if the surname Strider was intentionally ironic and what Dirk’s actual last name used to be, if that were the case. He sighed and followed his bro into the kitchen, feeling a bit happier to be home.

“Ah, Mr. Strider,” Mr. Egbert greeted with mild surprise. “Glad you could make it.” Dave noted the concern etching the old man’s features. Damn, even Mr. Egbert knew Dirk had issues. Maybe the guy deserved more credit. “I’ll go wake Jade up. Dinner should be ready in a few minutes.”

Thanksgiving dinner was nearly everything everyone had expected. Mr. Egbert was ecstatic when John said the cranberry sauce was delicious. Dirk offered a few compliments to the cook and poked some light fun at John and Dave that even Mr. Egbert snorted over. Dave was just happy to feel so human, and John was clearly overjoyed that everyone was together. Only Jade was subdued, though Dirk and Dave were the only ones able to notice. She laughed and talked about college, even smiled frequently, but something was wrong. She smelled…off, she had dark circles under her eyes, and her heartbeat didn’t always match her displayed emotions. Dave snuck a few below-human-hearing whispers to Dirk about it, but he was just as confused.

“Closest I’ve seen is in people with depression,” Dirk had guessed.

Well, that was shitty. Dave felt awful about not trying to talk to Jade these past few months. He didn’t have long to stew over it, since after dinner, Jade had asked to take a walk with him and John.

For whatever reason, Jade brought her purse along, but neither John nor Dave had questioned her. Dave had managed to inform John of Dirk’s speculation before she’d approached them.

“So, what did you want to talk about, Jade?” John asked awkwardly.

Jade cast a glance over her shoulder, and her heartbeat accelerated. She wasn’t nervous or sad; she was _terrified_ , yet her face and posture projected obvious calm. She shook her head and kept walking.

“In a bit,” she muttered.

John and Dave exchanged worried looks and kept her between them as she trudged further and further down the street, away from the house. Dave wished Terezi were here. Her super sniffer would probably tell her exactly what was going on with all these weird conflicting smells Jade was giving off. On second thought, maybe he’d be better off not having to breathe it in, honestly. It was distracting, and he felt like he was invading Jade’s privacy.

When they were a good five minutes from John’s house, both John and Dave’s phones buzzed with a text alert. Jade stopped to let them fish their phones from their pockets and dug into her own purse.

“Who is even texting us?” John wondered.

Dave looked down at the words “H8ppy Th8nksgiving!!!!!!!!” on his phone just in time to see the stake plunge into his chest.

He cried out in pain and fell backward onto the hard sidewalk, unable to move. Holy shit, this hurt a lot more than he’d expected. His heart kept trying to heal itself, kept squeezing around the polished oak and shooting fresh pains through his whole body. _FUUUUCK THIS HURTS,_ was all he could think. All his mouth managed was a faint, distressed gasp.

“Jade!” John yelled. “What the hell?”

_Jade? Had Jade staked him? What in the flying fuck would she do that for?! Jesus FUCK it hurts!_

John knelt down and reached to pull the stake out of Dave’s chest, but Jade roughly kicked him away. Even from his prone position, Dave could see that her eyes were full of tears.

“I’m so sorry,” Jade cried. Her head jerked to look behind Dave, and her expression contorted into a mix of fear and hate, the first time her scent and expression had matched all night.

He heard John struggling and trying to shout through a hand covering his mouth. Dave managed to turn his head about two millimeters to see striped pants out of the corner of his eye, with John’s legs kicking uselessly in front of them. _Fuck._

Then Dave heard Vriska’s voice coming from somewhere near his head. “You don’t have to be sorry for long,” the older vampire assured Jade. She leaned into Dave’s field of vision. “It is, after all, _my_ responsibility to make examples of people who don’t listen to me.” She leaned down to smile at Dave mockingly. “It’s not like you ever had a choice, Jade.”

“Don’t…touch…him,” Dave breathed between the sharp waves of pain, barely able to twitch his lips.

Vriska sighed theatrically and easily plucked Dave off the ground. He did his best to glare at her with his limited muscle control. “He wouldn’t have been in any danger if your little hero group had just _let me put us at the top of the food chain where we belong._ So, for collectively ignoring my gracious warnings, not to mention planning to _destroy_ me, I’m going to make them destroy _you_.” Her face became wild and horrible as she spoke, and if it weren’t already, Dave’s blood would have run cold at the sight. She smirked until it became a grimace. “Poor John’s just a facilitator, really.”

At that, an enraged bellow sounded from behind her, and a sickle buried itself in her shoulder. Vriska screamed and turned on Karkat, but he yanked his weapon free and dodged her mad swipe. Dave hit the ground hard, another muted scream of agony finding its way past his teeth. He couldn’t move his head fast enough to see, but he knew Karkat couldn’t fight both of them. Eridan let go of John, who tried to run to Dave, but got tackled by Jade. From what he could hear, Karkat tried his best, even shouted for Dirk, but his bro was well out of earshot for even Karkat’s voice. The other red-eyed vampire managed to land a few slices, but once Eridan got his hands on him, it was over. The snapping sound and the rustling of leaves as Eridan tossed Karkat into the nearest bush concluded the brief rescue attempt.

“Now, back to business,” Vriska said cheerfully, picking Dave up once again.


	18. Will

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should warn you that this chapter contains at least moderate gore. Not body horror levels, but still.

Eridan followed Vriska through the city, carrying Jade and John with ease. He had to keep a hand over the boy’s mouth, but Jade had been forbidden from struggling. He didn’t much appreciate Vriska’s methods on that front. Admittedly, he was unsettled by some of her tactics, but he didn’t have to put up with her lunacy much longer.

They reached the small construction site without being seen. The humans were busy celebrating and resting tonight. It was tomorrow that the city would be abuzz with activity. He let go of Jade’s waist and shifted so that John couldn’t add any more footprints to his pants.

“What is _wrong_ with you?!” Jade demanded hysterically. “You don’t have any need to do this to them, so why are you bothering?”

Vriska’s mouth twitched. “I already told you, Jade,” she said condescendingly. “I am about to put my species on top where it belongs. I have to set precedent for my response to insolence.”

The human girl balled her fists and took an aggressive step forward. Eridan felt John tense with fear, and the boy let loose a muffled exclamation from behind Eridan’s palm.

“You’re full of shit!” Jade accused. “You’re doing this because you’re fucked in the head. You _like_ it!”

For a moment, Vriska looked astonished by Jade’s audacity. Then, her face split into a smile that Eridan recognized as a bit too wide to be rational. He knew the girl was buying time, but he wasn’t worried enough to mention it. Surely Vriska was aware of Jade’s intent as well.

“Fine,” Vriska conceded. “I _do_ like it. However, this _will_ be a useful distraction while their friends are trying desperately to find them in time.” With a wicked grin, she pulled a small, curved blade from the front of her dress.

“In…in time for what?” John asked unsteadily from behind Eridan’s hand. The boy was shaking like a leaf.

Vriska locked eyes with John and smiled. “To save your life,” she replied matter-of-factly.

She held Dave’s limp form up by his hair with one hand and smoothly sliced open the front of his neck with her blade. The stake lodged in his chest kept him from reacting, but Eridan had a good idea of how much pain the kid was in. He’d been cut in half before; this probably came close on the pain scale. He kept his gaze steady on the scene, but he let the human boy avert his eyes. The girl screamed and launched herself at Vriska.

Without letting go of Dave, Vriska rotated the blade in her hand to face away from Jade and side swiped the girl into a half-finished concrete wall.

“Just because I can’t kill you yet doesn’t mean I won’t beat you to a pulp,” Vriska threatened. She took a deep breath as Jade got to her feet with a slight wobble. “Now, _shut_ _up_ and _stay_ _still_.” Eridan recognized the emphasis; Jade had no choice but to obey.

Vriska assessed the pool of Dave’s blood forming in the dirt. His neck had nearly healed when she sliced it open once more, looking unsatisfied.

“That should be enough,” she mused when the second cut closed itself. “Eridan?”

Eridan nodded and tossed a large chunk of concrete on top of the dark red puddle to obscure it.

Vriska plucked Dave’s shades from his face. “These’ll be a good place marker.”

The panic on Dave’s partially frozen face was plain, and Eridan honestly was quite weary of Vriska’s vendettas against children. Still, he maintained his poise and carried John over to a small but deep pit near the center of the construction area. He tossed away the ladder that had been left behind by the workers and dropped John inside. As he ripped free a chunk of an incomplete wall, Vriska dragged Dave over, yanked the stake from his chest, and lightly tossed him into the hole.

“Don’t worry, I’ll leave a clue for them to follow,” Vriska promised darkly. “Maybe if Terezi helps, they can find you before you eat your boyfriend.” She was lying. She’d drained so much blood; Dave would be lucky to hold out for five minutes. He was too young for that level of restraint.

Eridan felt it was a pity he wouldn’t be able to hand Vriska over to the Jury.

He rolled his eyes and placed the thick layer of stone wall over the opening. “Vris, you’ve had your fun. Can we go perform the blasted ritual now? Terezi is just as likely to come looking for _us_.” Eridan had a healthy respect for Pyrope’s nose, and he still needed the ritual to be completed in order to achieve his goals.

Vriska scoffed angrily and tossed the sunglasses onto the slab covering the pit. “Oh, all right, _fine._ Come along, Jade!”

==>

Karkat woke and pulled himself free of the sharp branches of the prickly as fuck bush into which he’d been tossed. The crinkling of paper on the inside of his collar only mildly surprised him. He wrenched the note from his shirt and read Eridan’s flowing script. Jesus fuck, the tool even _wrote_ in violet. A fresh scowl formed on Karkat’s face as he read the message. He glanced around at the scene. The only trace anything odd had taken place was a pair of cell phones, abandoned in the middle of the goddamn sidewalk.

“Fucking wonderful,” Karkat grumbled to himself as he scooped up the devices. It was a damn good thing he wouldn’t be needing to track their phones. He took off for the Egbert house as fast as he could and pulled out his own phone. “Terezi. You need to _move. NOW._ ”

==>

The burning. The burning was all there was. He thought maybe John had tried talking to him, but he had to ignore it. He had to ignore the sounds. Every heartbeat, every breath pounded in his ears and set the fire burning hotter and hotter. He’d curled up in the fetal position, hands over his ears, but he could still hear it. He had stopped breathing to cut off the scent. It would have snapped his control in seconds if he hadn’t. Just the smell…he shook his head. _Don’t think about it._ _Think about…think…that bitch stole my shades._ Fuck, it hurt. _I am really not a fan of that shit. Like, those are_ mine _, excuse you bitch?_ Everything felt like it was on fire. _Fucking taking my shades, making Jade stab me in the chest._ The pain would stop if he would just— _Shit, Jade. What did she do to you?_ There was relief not three feet away. He could feel John’s body heat, slowly filling up the small space— _Stop! No, no no. They’ll get here. They’ll find us._

It had been three minutes. He had been counting in his head. He kept counting to ten to distract himself. It was becoming rapidly less effective. His fangs had been down for the entire length of time.

“Dave?” John asked gently.

Dave had to jerk his legs back up to his chest at the sound of John’s voice. “Don’t,” was all he could choke out with the remainder of air in his lungs. _Don’t talk, please. It makes it hurt more._

His arms started to shake, but he kept his hands pressed to his ears. Three minutes, twenty seconds. _I can make it. I can ma—_ The pain was worse than having to sit through getting his throat cut open by a psychopath, worse than having a piece of wood shoved into his chest while his heart kept trying and failing to heal itself around it. _No, stop. I won’t hurt him. I—_ The fire wasn’t just in his throat, like that first day. It was _everywhere_. Even his fingers might as well have been resting on a stove top. Three minutes, forty seconds.

The shaking in his hands kept him from fully covering his ears. John’s breathing and heartbeat were getting harder to ignore. _Just a little longer. Keep counting to ten._ He wished he could breathe. He wished he could breathe and have it provide relief. He couldn’t take this. His body was less limbs and a torso and more this shell of agony— _Just hold on. They’ll find—_ John shifted slightly as he leaned against the dirt wall opposite Dave. A sigh just barely louder than his normal breathing sounded like a gunshot in Dave’s ears, and he found his legs outstretched again.

Four minutes. He tried to curl back into his ball, but he couldn’t take it anymore. Dying had been so much easier than this. _Everything BURNS. But John—I can’t do this. Not this much pain. I’m sorry. MAKE IT STOP._ Dave moved to John in less than a blink. His hands were still shaking as he grabbed John’s shoulders.

“I can’t, I’m sorry,” was all Dave could get out after taking in a breath to speak. The smell was too much to ignore beyond that. His teeth were in John’s neck almost before the last syllable resolved in the air.

John winced, but he wrapped his arms around Dave. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “It doesn’t hurt.”

Somewhere in his head, Dave heard the words and started to break, but too much of him was fixated on relieving the pain. He could feel the tiniest measure of reprieve as he started to drink. He realized how much he would need, how much he had been terrified of taking, but it was too late. Whatever was in charge of his self-preservation instincts was like a separate being, and he had given it control. He would drink until the pain was gone, and it would be too much for John to lose and survive. He had looked up how much blood someone could lose before they couldn’t be saved with medical attention. It wasn’t much, and he needed more than that.

He stopped counting while he drank. The time was marked only by John, who kept saying “It’ll be okay, I promise,” over and over.

And then, just before he passed out, “Just keep it together, until…until…” John made a strange, frustrated noise with what little energy he could muster. “Dave, I love you.”

Dave could feel John’s pulse hammering out of control, trying to push what little blood was left through his system. The pain was still there, but he could feel control slowly drifting back to him. He couldn’t stop himself yet, only start to fully realize what he had done. Eventually, he was able to pry his mouth away from his best friend’s neck, but not before John’s heart had given out. Dave gulped in air that provided no comfort and held John’s cold form against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, I’m s-so-sorry.” He buried his face in John’s hair. He couldn’t stop shaking. “Please don’t go,” he begged. “ _Please, please don’t…”_

Dave knew there would be no answer. He knew he wasn’t holding John. It was too cold to be John. Too still, too quiet. But he couldn’t bring himself to let go, either. He sat and sobbed without tears, unable to stop muttering “I’m sorry” to the cold thing that used to be his best friend.

The sound from the surrounding city was blocked by the thick chunk of stone Eridan had placed over the hole. Dave was completely alone, the only reason the pit wasn’t silent. He refused to let go of the body until someone pried it from his grip. Not that he cared if he was ever found. He wondered what it would feel like to starve. Terezi had mentioned something about drying out, being unable to move. He wouldn’t hurt anyone that way, but the question was how to accomplish it without the thirst taking ov—What in the fuck!? _...bump._

Dave stopped breathing and placed a hand on John’s chest. There was no way—he hadn’t had time… _Thump…bump._ Dave froze in shock. He had felt that. He was certain. He hoped with everything he had that this wasn’t just him losing his mind. Again, the heartbeat came. It was abnormally slow, but steady.

The part of Dave that had started to unravel cautiously sealed itself back up, but now he had something new to worry about. How was this possible? Wouldn’t he have noticed if—

The rumbling and grunting sounds suddenly coming from above his head distracted him from his train of thought. He looked up to see Karkat and Dirk shoving the concrete lid away from the hole. Dave gently gathered John into his arms and leapt out of the pit.

Karkat stared at Dave briefly, probably noticing the blood on his chin. “We don’t have time for a fucking novel,” Karkat spat hurriedly. “I’ll take John to your apartment. You two can move fast enough to make it in time to back Terezi up.” He reached out his arms for Dave to hand John over.

Dave took a step back, looking between Dirk and Karkat. The set of Dirk’s shoulders and the barest tug at the corner of his mouth gave away that he was pissed. The uncomfortable guilt on Karkat’s face was more obvious.

“You did this,” Dave stated bitterly.

Karkat rolled his eyes. “Yes, and thanks to me—and Rose’s persistent nagging until I agreed to this—you don’t have to go insane and be put down. You’re fucking welcome. Now hand him over.”

“That’s not the fucking point, you f—”

“Dave,” Dirk cut in. “We need to help the others. We don’t have time for this.”

Dave grimaced openly, and a small hiss escaped through his teeth as he allowed Karkat to take John. Then he and Dirk were a blur to everything but each other as Dirk led the way deeper into the city.

“Did you know?” Dave asked neutrally as they sped through alleys and over rooftops.

“No,” Dirk answered. “But I can’t claim to be all that upset with not having to off you.”

Dave grit his teeth and followed the rest of the way in silence. There better be plenty of the spider bitch left over for him to take this out on.


	19. Choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Gore Again

Terezi did her best not to permanently maim any of the six mind-controlled humans she was attempting to subdue, while Aradia struggled to hold back nearly a dozen more with a telekinetic wall. Feferi was trying to shove past the rest of the throng without impaling any of them on her trident. Terezi let out a low, frustrated hiss. Humans were so cumbersome. Fighting was far easier when your opponent could actually regenerate their organs. She grinned when she finally heard the quickened steps of the Striders approaching.

Dirk and Dave reached the party just seconds after their footsteps had reached Terezi’s ears. Together, they sped through the mass of entranced humans, knocking them out with their fists or sword hilts, avoiding the grasping hands that were hampering Terezi and Feferi’s efforts. Finally, the crowd began to thin as the group made headway in rendering them unconscious. Aradia gratefully dropped her barrier and rubbed her temples as the others handled the remainder of the humans.

“Orange peels? Seriously?” Dirk teased half-heartedly.

“It’s an easy trail to follow down here,” Terezi countered, gesturing at the dank sewer surrounding them. “And it was some damn short notice. Be sure to tell Karkat I said thanks for that.”

“Let’s get moving. She has Jade,” Dave insisted angrily. His sunglasses were missing, and he reeked of rage and grief.

“I will keep the ones who wake from interfering,” Aradia assured the group, though Terezi caught the faint disappointment coloring her tone.

Terezi nodded, cutting her sympathetic look for Dave short. “We don’t know what we’re walking in on. Be ready for anything.” She drew her sword and led the way down the tunnel the humans had been guarding.

They had made it only a few yards when Terezi felt a shift in the air. Her senses felt dulled, as if cotton had been stuffed into her ears and nose. Her footsteps faltered as her vision grew dim and the fine details of the floor and walls became indistinct.

“Something’s wrong,” Dave said. “I feel so fucking _slow_.”

Feferi looked at their surroundings and pointed at several dark red symbols upon the stone. “I’ve seen these before,” she explained. That unsettling darkness she rarely showed crossed her face, and Terezi wondered what memory had been stirred. “They are used by witches to render our supernatural advantages useless. She must have used Jade’s blood to write them.”

“How long does it last?” Dirk demanded as they continued down the tunnel.

“Indefinitely until we leave wherever they are written,” Feferi said. “The residual effects are mitigated by age.” She cast a nervous glance at the Striders, the youngest by far out of the four of them, and sadly the ones with the most relevant capabilities. “Minutes, maybe?”

Terezi grimaced. Typical Vriska, covering her bases down to the last moment. They wouldn’t _have_ minutes to work with, and they all knew it. She continued leading the way down the tunnel, knowing at least that Vriska would not have these symbols in the ritual zone.

==>

Jade tugged absently at the bandage on her wrist as she gazed out over the vast facility. All she had wanted was to go to college and double major in robotics and nuclear physics. She could have gone her whole life ignoring things like vampires and magic. She would have been perfectly happy. Instead, she was staring at row after row of strange glass storage tanks stretching out before her, each one housing an unconscious person. She hadn’t wanted to believe it when Vriska had been babbling proudly about her plan. All these people…could they even be saved? The shock would likely kill them. Some of them had been in this state for decades. She could move no closer to the people due to Vriska’s orders, but that didn’t stop her from trying to count.

“Four hundred and twelve,” Vriska supplied as she walked up beside Jade. She hefted the small white sphere in her hand. “The ritual instructions are quite specific.” In her other hand, she held a half-rotted journal, which must have held these ‘instructions’.

Jade shivered. “You need four hundred thirteen,” she whispered.

“Exactly,” Vriska said approvingly. “More specifically, the last person needs to have witch’s blood. It _is_ a spell after all.” Vriska patted Jade’s head like a dog. “You’re not too upset about it, are you?”

Jade turned her face away and said nothing.

“Thought so.” Vriska gently grasped Jade’s hand and positioned it above the strange cue ball. With her knife, she made a tiny cut on Jade’s index finger. A single drop fell upon the pure white surface, and the orb began to glow a painfully bright white. Vriska hefted the old journal in her other hand and began chanting in a language Jade did not recognize.

Eridan stood tensely with his hand on the control panel of the life support system for the tanks, waiting to disable them at the appropriate time.

Jade turned to him. “Please don’t,” she begged. “You can’t! Not all these people. _Please_.”

Eridan sighed and gave Jade a weary look. “Listen, at the end of the day, you’re my food.” He glanced at Vriska, and his face hardened.

Vriska nodded approvingly as she continued reciting the ancient spell. The cue ball began to flicker with a white light, steadying to a constant glow as she continued the incantation. Upon the last syllable, she spun to Eridan with a mad grin and shouted “NOW!”

Eridan averted his eyes from Jade and pressed a small red button on the control panel.

The eerie light of the tubes faded away, and the people inside them began to die. The white light of the sphere began to pulse hungrily. Jade screamed as she saw hundreds of white spectres rise from the tubes and begin to descend upon the orb, drawn in by its light. She wanted to run from the horrific thing, but she had been forbidden from fleeing. She cringed as her hand hovered above the flickering ball of energy. A harrowing coldness grew inside of her as each life force was swallowed by the artifact.

She could hear it _whispering_.

Vriska’s face was tense. Could she hear it too? Perhaps it was just the ghosts that made her nervous. The four hundred and twelve innocents she had just condemned to death. What if it was _worse?_ What had they done? What was happening to these dead souls? Jade shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut. The light from the orb tinted her eyelids bright red.

Then Jade heard Eridan’s panicked voice, close behind Vriska. “They’re coming!”

Vriska hissed furiously. “Stall them!” She shouted to the handful of humans standing placidly around the room. “All I need is to let it absorb the sacrifice now.”

“Good,” Eridan said.

Jade watched as two unfamiliar women, Dave, and Dirk emerged from the far entrance and tried to shove their way through the small mob of brainwashed servants. She silently cursed herself, remembering she was the reason they couldn’t just blow past the poor slaves and stop all this. _What would be the point anyway,_ she thought bitterly. She watched as the life force of hundreds of executed innocents continued to funnel into the blindingly bright orb. _They’re too late._

She wished she’d kept her eyes shut.

A horrible cracking, squelching sound echoed in Jade’s ears at the same time that Vriska shrieked in agony. The blue-eyed vampire’s hand dropped from the orb, which remained in place, pulsating and drawing in the dead. Eridan wrenched Vriska’s heart free through the back of her ribcage, and her body fell limply to the floor.

Jade felt something inside of her snap like an overstretched rubber band. An almost electric charge ran through her body and left her numb. She was too taken aback to fall to her knees. She stared at Vriska’s body, unable to process what Eridan had just done.

Jade heard a gasp from the far side of the room and turned her head instinctively toward the noise. The woman in red glasses had made the sound. Her mouth hung open in astonishment. Her eyes were locked on Vriska’s corpse.

“Jade!” It was Dave’s voice.

But Jade knew they were still too far away. Too slow to do anything. Because of her.

Eridan dropped the heart to the ground with a sickening spatter and stepped up to Jade, who made no move to flee.

“I am sorry,” he said, placing his clean hand on her neck. She hazily appreciated that he didn’t touch her with Vriska’s blood.

She could still hear the whispers coming from the orb.

“No!” She heard Dave scream. She could see that he and the others had shoved past the now-dazed people casting about in bewilderment at their surroundings. She couldn’t see the second woman, though the one in red was kneeling on the ground as though her legs had given out.

Rather than struggle, Jade simply closed her eyes. She felt Eridan’s fingers tense as he prepared to cleanly snap—

Another stomach-turning, piercing noise had Jade’s eyes snapping open. Eridan’s fingers slipped from her throat, and he gave a startled grunt. He fell to the ground, eyes wide, unable to move. A trident was buried in his back. Both ends were barbed, and Jade could see that the spikes in his flesh were wooden. Ten yards away, the woman with long waves of dark hair was straightening from a throwing position. Jade hadn’t seen her because she had been lined up directly behind Eridan, aiming her shot.

The trident-wielding woman sighed softly and began to close the distance between herself and where Jade stood next to the orb.

Jade did not fully register this though. The whispering of the orb had distracted her. She couldn’t understand the words, but they had been growing steadily louder as it drew in more energy. The rhythm of its hungry flashing became ever faster. Somehow, she could not stop staring at its brilliant shine. As the last of the innocent dead was absorbed, she reached out to touch it.

The long-haired woman threw her hands forward in alarm. “Don’t—!”

Jade was no longer in the dark lair. She stood in a blank white void, unsure what she was standing upon. The floor was indistinguishable from any other part of this place. She cast no shadow, yet she could see perfectly. The only color contrasting the emptiness was a lime green shirt and bow tie, worn by the man standing before her. Well, perhaps ‘man’ was not accurate. It was certainly humanoid, but its head seemed to be an enlarged version of the plain white cue ball that had brought her here. The rest of its clothing was white, like the world surrounding them, though thankfully, Jade could still focus on it with little effort.

_Hello, Jade._

“Hello. Am…am I dead?”

The strange creature’s shoulders shook lightly, as if it were giggling, though she could not hear it.

_Forgive my rudeness. I was created by a malicious man. At times, the tendencies seep through. I assure you, however, that I myself am nothing more than a conduit for change. And no, you are not dead._

Jade’s shoulders sagged. “What is this place, then?”

The creature rotated its shoulders to simulate looking around. It seemed aware that its motions were hard to interpret with such a featureless form.

_It does not exist. You are still standing where you were. We are merely communicating within your mind._

“I see,” Jade said levelly. She wondered what the creature’s name was. Or even _what_ it was, for that matter.

_You may call me Scratch. I am essentially an interface for use of the artifact you possess. My appearance is partially a result of your perception._

“So, I am talking to myself, somewhat?”

She thought Scratch nodded, though she couldn’t really tell, as it had no neck.

_He._

“Sorry, what?”

_My preferred pronoun. He._

“Interesting,” Jade said neutrally.

_You miss your grandfather a great deal. It is unsurprising._

“Right. Talking to myself,” Jade muttered.

Scratch’s shoulders shook again in amusement. Then he folded his hands behind his back and straightened his posture.

_I am here to submit to you The Choice._

Jade let a heavy sigh rush out of her lungs. “Get it on with then. I’m not sure I can handle much more of the supernatural.”

_Very well. At first glance, The Choice is often between an option of self-interest and one of self-sacrifice. In your case, however, the circumstances are unique._

“Can I save the people she killed?” Jade asked hopefully.

_No. Sadly, they are the fuel for The Choice and thus cannot be saved. It is not within my power to restore Life, nor rewrite Time._

“So, what _can_ you do?” Jade did not mean to sound condescending, but luckily Scratch could tell.

_It depends on the person Choosing. I offer you this Choice, Jade Harley: you may help Many, or you may save One. For you, the ending is the same._

“What ‘one’ are you talking about?” Jade demanded.

_You already know. However, I must stress once again that True Life is not within my power. This is purely the exploitation of a loophole. Do you understand?_

Jade nodded. She understood far more than the words he spoke. “And the many?”

Scratch’s hands moved from behind his back to rest on his hips. _As generic and well-meaning a boon as you could imagine, Jade. The cure for cancer, perhaps? An appealing enough option, I suppose._

Perhaps in another life, it would have taken her more time to choose. She liked to think so. Jade approached the strange being and held out her hand. “I’ve made my choice,” she said firmly.

Scratch reached out his white-gloved hands and comfortingly clasped Jade’s.

_DONE._


	20. Consequence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Gore Once More

Sometimes Feferi wished she was faster or stronger. Maybe she could have stopped Jade if she was. She had recovered barely in time to save the girl’s life, and then Jade had to go and commune with the corrupted artifact anyway. Feferi sighed again and let her outstretched hands drop to her sides. Jade’s eyes were covered in a white haze. Trying to wrench her hands free of the object would do no good. Dave and Dirk had reached Jade by now. They watched and waited, Dirk keeping a hand on Dave’s shoulder to let him know interfering was useless.

Instead of hovering around the poor girl, Feferi knelt down and turned Eridan on his side.

“Eridan, why did you let this happen?” She left her trident firmly planted in his torso to keep him from moving, but she knew he could speak. “Nothing could be worth this massacre.”

A slight rasp escaped Eridan’s lips before he spoke. “I was…going to bring…him back,” he breathed. His eyes flicked up to her face. “For you.”

“These people didn’t deserve this, Eridan,” Feferi said, her voice breaking.

“You did,” Eridan countered with a pained grunt. His eyes slowly moved to look at Jade, then back to Feferi. “Get it…over with…Fef.”

Feferi shook her head and placed a hand on Eridan’s cheek. “It’s not my place.”

“Yes it is,” Eridan argued as firmly as he could manage. “Just…hurry it up…please?”

“I’ll gladly do it,” Terezi fumed from across the room. She had found her feet, and she began to take slow, measured steps toward them.

Feferi looked up at Terezi. “No,” she said, noticing how the other woman’s gaze avoided Vriska’s body.

“It is _my_ job,” Terezi claimed.

Feferi threw a hard glare at her friend. “Your job is justice, not vengeance.”

Terezi scoffed, but she stopped moving forward. “It’s vengeance either way.”

“I know.”

Feferi reached for the hilt of her trident. Her other hand hovered above Eridan’s heart. She drew in a few shaking breaths to steady herself. Eridan closed his eyes.

“Goodbye.”

She pulled the weapon free and plunged her hand through his rib cage. He made no utterance of pain as she removed his heart. She tenderly placed it on the cold stone floor, turned away from him, and began to sob. She hadn’t felt that odd, empty sting in her eyes in so long, and she hated it. Terezi knelt next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

==>

Dirk and Dave stared anxiously at Jade, waiting for some indication of change.

“What the hell is happening?” Dave demanded of the air. Dirk kept his hand on Dave’s shoulder in case the kid tried anything stupid.

Then, as if in response to Dave, a booming voice sounded through the chamber.

“THE CHOICE HAS BEEN MADE.”

The earth began to shake as the light of the small sphere began to grow, enveloping Jade’s still frozen form. Dirk had to throw his arms around Dave and yank him back when he tried to dart forward.

“We can’t just—we have to—” Dave tried to squirm out of his bro’s grip, but Dirk was having none of it.

“Just sit tight, lil man,” Dirk said, dragging Dave back a few paces. “We don’t know what’s going down.” He’d be damned if he let Dave get vaporized like an idiot in the middle of all this.

The light had rapidly eclipsed Jade. For a few moments, it seemed to draw in on itself. Then it began to make a strange noise, like the whirring of a television that had just been turned on. The subsequent deafening boom and flash of light knocked Dirk and Dave backward onto the hard stone floor.

Dirk’s eyes adjusted easily after the flash, but Jade was gone. There was no sign of the small white ball either. Sitting on the ground in their place was a young man with dark, messy hair. He had just opened his eyes and begun to look around in shock. Dirk couldn’t move. He blinked a few times, thinking maybe the blast had fucked with his head. Meanwhile, Dave was grabbing the guy by the collar of his dark green jacket.

“What did you do with Jade?” Dave snarled.

The green-eyed man frowned and wobbled loosely as Dave shook him. He looked down at the floor. “She’s gone.”

Dave was clearly not in a state to handle this response. He reared back to throw a frustrated punch, but Dirk snapped out of his stupor in time to catch Dave’s arm.

“Dave, don’t,” Dirk choked weakly.

“Why _the fuck_ not?” Dave jerked his arm free and looked wildly from Dirk to the stranger. “He’s the reason Jade is gone.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Dirk said as calmly as he could. “He’s her grandfather.”

“What?! Are you nuts? He’s like, your age.” Dave tightened his grip on the man’s collar and looked him over. “And he’s one of us.”

“Dirk,” the man said in recognition. “This is Roxy’s boy?”

“Jake.” The name felt strange to him. He hadn’t said it in so long. He offered a barely steady hand to help Jake to his feet. When Jake reached for him with an uneasy glance at Dave, Dirk felt no temperature difference. Jake’s eyes had never been such an obvious, vibrant green. Dirk struggled to get ahold of himself. “Yeah, this is Dave.”

“This was her choice, wasn’t it?” Dave muttered hollowly.

“I am afraid so,” Jake replied, looking down at his boots. “I am so sorry. If I’d had a say…”

Dave raised his hands to quiet Jake. “I don’t care. I get it.” He turned away and headed for the exit. “I’m going to go check on John.”

Dirk was still staring at Jake, unable to believe his eyes. Hell, he was afraid to blink. He wanted to make sure this was real, but what if he looked away and Jake was gone again? What if this was a trick? What if he had finally lost it?

“Dirk?” Jake asked cautiously. “Are you all right?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Dirk answered. He suspected he wasn’t, not with his voice cracking like that.

Jake smiled and wrapped him in a hug, and Dirk couldn’t keep himself from embracing him back. He heard a faint sob come from deep in his throat, but he wasn’t even remotely embarrassed. He balled his fists in the fabric of Jake’s jacket and buried his face against his neck. He could feel him, smell him. Jade had actually brought him back. Jake didn’t pull away for a good long while, and when he did, he cleared his throat nervously.

“Sorry,” Dirk apologized hastily. “I just. I wasn’t sure you were real.”

Jake shook his head. “No, no it’s not that,” he assured Dirk. “It’s just that I—er, well…” His hand drifted up to his neck, and he cast a frightened glance at the disoriented humans still milling about the room.

“Oh, fuck, right,” Dirk spluttered, realizing what was going on. He placed his hands on Jake’s shoulders and tried to regain his composure. “I’ll take you to my apartment. You can eat there. Just breathe out and don’t breathe back in, okay?”

Jake nodded and exhaled. Dirk took his hand and began leading him toward the tunnel.

“Terezi, Fef?”

Terezi rolled her eyes behind her narrow shades, though it lacked her usual sting. “Karkat and I will handle the rabble,” she told Dirk.

“Go take care of your family,” Feferi added with a kind smile for both of them.

==>

“You were on a drug binge the past few months or however fucking long you’ve been gone from home. But you’ve since turned your life around and completely conquered your addiction.”

“That’s not how addictions work.”

“Shut up, Terezi, I’m working.” Karkat turned back to the blonde—Leslie was their name—and finished his instruction. “Go home to your family and get your affairs sorted out. Get your goddamn life back on track, whatever that fucking means in your case.”

Karkat heaved a sigh of relief as the last human left the office. Terezi was busy tearing down the walls of evidence she’d been referencing for decades. The corkboards would have to be replaced, considering how aggressively she was ‘cleaning’ them. Karkat watched patiently as she tied up the last garbage bag. He poured her a glass of blood from her small fridge and sipped on his own while she finished tidying up.

“You wanna talk about it?” Karkat offered once Terezi took a seat in her chair.

“No,” Terezi said simply. She tossed back the drink like a shot of tequila and re-filled the glass. “What I do want to talk about,” she added. “Is John Egbert.”

“What about him?” Karkat said casually. He made sure to keep his gaze leveled at her shades.

“I just don’t see why Vriska would bother turning him.” Terezi tapped her pen over the form she’d been filling out between cleaning breaks. “He was clearly too kind for her tastes. What could have motivated her to preserve his personality?”

Karkat peered into his glass and took a quick swig. “Vriska was unstable. Maybe it was the kid’s blue eyes. Maybe she just fucking snapped. Who cares? She’s dead, and so is Eridan. I don’t see why it has to be such a big deal. The replacement ratio is hardly an issue.”

Terezi gave Karkat a long, calculating stare. “Reasonable,” she eventually declared. “They’ll buy it.”

“And my ass is saved once again,” Karkat intoned. “Cheers to Terezi, the Almighty Coverer of Karkat’s Ass.”

Terezi clinked her fresh glass of blood with Karkat’s. He caught the shadow of her old grin peeking out, and he smiled.

==>

How much longer?

A few hours…What, you’re not going to lecture me on morality?

I don’t have the fucking energy. Is it too much to ask you to get the fuck out?

It was Rose’s idea.

Yeah well, fuck her too then. Just go. Please.

…

John woke suddenly from the blackness. He sat up in Dave’s bed and sucked in a deep, unsteady breath. It was seriously unsettling not to be comforted by oxygen, but Dave was holding his hand, staring at him with no shades on. The relief on his face was obvious, and it helped John relax.

“H-hey,” John said shakily. He offered Dave as a big a smile as he could, but he was distracted by several things. Mostly that Dave didn’t feel cold to him anymore. And that he himself felt cold, but in just the way Dave had described it, like he _knew_ he was cold, but he didn’t feel the need to shiver. And _wow_ , his vision was a hell of a lot better. Plus he could hear people talking in the living room, and the buzzing of the lightbulb was kind of annoying.

“Hey,” Dave said, snapping John out of his thoughts. John focused on Dave’s eyes, excited at how much detail he could see.

“Wow,” John murmured. “Holy dicks, Dave, your eyes are even cooler!”

Dave snorted. “That _would_ be the first coherent sentence out of your mouth.” He reached over to his desk and rooted around in the drawers until he pulled out something small and round. “You should see your own.” He handed John the small mirror with a smirk.

“Damn,” John said, taking in the exaggerated blue. “Look at all the tiny fucking flecks of color going on, holy shit.” Then Dave shifted awkwardly in his chair, and reality came crashing back. “Oh no, Jade! What happened with Vriska? Is everyone okay? Nothing happened to my dad, right?”

Dave gently placed his hands on John’s shoulders and took in a bracing breath. “Your dad’s fine. Vriska’s dead, Eridan too. I’ll explain that clusterfuck later. Jade…”

“What? What happened?”

“She’s gone. She used the fucked up ritual Vriska did to bring back her—your grandpa.”

John had to take a moment to process that. “But why would she do that? He was _old_ when he died! Like, he got to do the whole life thing already.” John tried very hard not to sound envious of that. “And all those people…”

Dave shrugged. “John, I don’t think Jade was in a good place—as in, mentally—when she did this. And, about your grandpa, he um, he isn’t old anymore. He’s like us.”

John’s eyes widened in surprise. “You mean, like—?” He lifted a hand to his neck and instantly wished he hadn’t, because fucking hell, he was thirsty.

Dave nodded. “Yeah, I don’t get it either, but it’s what she did.”

“What the fuck, Jade,” John said softly.

“Pretty much,” Dave sighed. He gave John a sidelong glance. “So, how did he do it? Karkat, I mean.”

“Oh! Right, that,” John said. “Well, he gave me this sealed cup thing and told me I had to drink once from it every day, but I had to hide it and I couldn’t tell you about it. And like, when I say he ‘told’ me, I mean with these, like, superpowers or something. It was really fucking frustrating not being able to tell you when we got stuck down there. I guess it wore off after…” John trailed off and pulled his knees up to his chest. He was having a really hard time deciding if he should be angry with Karkat or not.

Dave bowed his head and squeezed John’s hand. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Why?”

“It’s my fault you got stuck like this.”

“Excuse me, but I believe _I_ was the one who kissed _you_ first. Which means we are at minimum mutually to blame.”

Dave rolled his eyes. “We still would have been friends, you asshat. She still would have gone after you.”

“Exactly, _she._  You know, the person who killed you just to fuck with your bro? It’s not your fucking fault, okay?” John leaned over and laid the back of his head in Dave’s lap. He grabbed Dave’s face and locked eyes with him. “…Okay?”

“Okay,” Dave surrendered, and John quit squishing his cheeks. Dave’s eyes darted across John’s face. “But, you know what this means, right?”

John sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed. “A lot of stuff,” he informed his socks. “I know I don’t get to do some of the things I was planning on, but…I wasn’t really planning on ditching you either, so this,” he gestured vaguely at himself. “Didn’t really seem too avoidable.” He kept his eyes locked on his feet. “Unless you didn’t want me to stick around.”

Dave immediately wrapped him in a tight hug. “Like I’d even bother existing if you weren’t around,” he breathed into John’s hair.

John gratefully threw his arms around his best friend. “You sure you can put up with me for like…forever?” John asked quietly. Forever was a long time. A really scary, really _long,_ long time.

Dave scoffed and squeezed John even tighter. “Dude, I put up with you just fine for like, a decade already. I think I can handle it. Did I mention I love you?”

“Yeah, you have.” John pulled Dave into a passionate kiss, and it was easier to ignore the rising heat in his throat. “I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End  
> \---  
> Thank you for reading. :3
> 
> (I am open to constructive criticism, compliments, and any questions you may have! Be sure to share this with your friends if you enjoyed it!)


	21. Supplemental Chapter - Vampirism Details

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a description of a bunch of the technical details of vampirism and specific vampire powers that exist within the story. Feel free to shoot me any additional questions! I love answering stuff like this, especially with such a variable topic as vampires!

Dry Eyes Vampire Rules – In case you _really_ wanted a run-down of the mechanics of vampirism in this AU.

*SUNLIGHT: Exposure to the sun induces feelings of nausea and accelerates metabolism, resulting in increased thirst. Prolonged exposure to the sun results in death. Symptoms of overexposure include delirium, extreme fatigue, and yellowing of the sclera (sclera=white of the eye).

*INVITATION: The residence of any living person cannot be entered by a vampire unless a living person provides express invitation. The owner need not be the one to extend such invitation. For example, if the deed to the house is in Dad Egbert’s name, John can still extend invitation to allow Dave into the house. The residence of a vampire does not bar other vampires from entering. This is due to the fact that vampires are, in fact, undead, rather than living. For example, Dirk’s apartment was a safe haven until Dave died, at which point a living person no longer occupied their apartment.

*STAKES: Wooden stakes in this setting do not cause death. They merely paralyze. This state is extremely painful, as the vampire’s heart continually tries to heal despite the obstruction. Metal and other materials do not have this effect and can be removed, but getting stabbed in the heart still hurts like a motherfucker.

*DECAPITATION: Results in death.

*FIRE: I mean, that’s pretty fucked up but yeah. Vampires can be incinerated.

*OBJECTS OF FAITH: These objects, such as crosses, stars of David, and various other holy symbols, generally hold power only in the hands of the truly faithful. True faith is rare, thus these objects rarely have an effect on vampires, and it is a minor concern. Vampires may freely enter places of worship and pass over hallowed grounds. Objects of faith only hold power _in the hands_ of the truly faithful.

*GARLIC: No effect. As with other foods, garlic can be eaten, but provides no nutrition (or pleasurable taste) and must be expelled later, via vomiting.

*SILVER: No effect. Silver is a weakness for vampires in some lore, but not this one.

*REFLECTION: Yes, vampires in this setting have reflections. This rule has lost popularity lately, mainly because the basic premise behind it is that a being with no soul will cast no reflection. This is silly, since A) inanimate objects have a reflection and B) passively bending light in that manner is far too energy-intensive. C) I like physics and dislike this rule, but it makes sense in more heavily supernatural settings. (i.e. Settings in which vampires really don’t have a soul and it is stated as canonical fact, such as Buffy the Vampire Slayer’s universe.)

*SOUL: Speaking of that issue, this is not a theme in this setting. The only separation between a vampire and their old human self is the experience of death. While I do not explore this philosophical question, it should be clear that a person does not lose any aspect of their self when they turn.

THE BENEFITS OF AGE

*Less blood required overall to comfortably function

*Better control over thirst, particularly when recovering from extensive injury and expending blood to do so

*Gradual increase in physical strength (Aside from Eridan, who is in fact younger, Feferi is the oldest and therefore the strongest.)

\--- 

*AUGMENTED ABILITIES: ((WARNING: This section will involve spoilers.)) This is a complex topic, but essentially, upon reviving as a vampire, a person has a trait amplified. This can be either a physical or mental trait or ability. Note that all vampires are stronger, faster, and are equipped with better senses than any human. List of characters’ augmented abilities beyond standard vampire enhancements is below.

-Feferi: Dream-walking. She is passively drawn to the dreamscapes of humans who have recently been fed upon and survived. She can also freely communicate with other vampires using this ability. She has the power to influence normal humans with this power, but does not do so unless she is protecting the secret of her kind.

-Gamzee: Vitality. Gamzee appears briefly, but his ability is hinted at during his appearance. He heals from injuries even faster than other vampires. Individuals with this ability can shrug off a collision with a train the way normal humans ignore a slight headache. Cut them in half at the waist, and their legs are already growing back by the time you drag the old ones over to reattach. An added benefit is that they require less blood to heal and generally function. Their bodies are extremely efficient. Thus, if such a vampire were to sustain severe injury and become exposed to a large group of humans immediately afterward, they would have an easier time controlling their thirst, since they used less blood to heal than normal vampires would require.

-Eridan: Strength. This is self-explanatory. He could warp steel with his bare hands.

-Vriska: Mind-reading and manipulation. With focus, she can investigate a human’s memories freely, usually without them noticing the intrusion. She can easily persuade or outright control weak-willed humans. Her control of Jade required an extensive period of interaction, wherein she laid the groundwork for total control. A fair portion of her puppeteering of Jade is basic psychology mixed with her abilities. This feat took her many months of study and careful subliminal suggestions, as Jade was not weak-willed. Her powers are ineffective against supernatural mortals, such as Rose and Roxy. Jade is not herself supernatural, but she _is_ a descendant of witches, making her blood necessary for Vriska’s plans.

-Terezi: Amplified senses. All vampires have enhanced senses, but Terezi’s abilities far outstrip them. Although she is dayblind, her sight in the darkness is unparalleled. Her nose is able to distinguish between individuals, their emotions, and how long ago they had been in a given location. Her sense of touch, taste, and hearing are likewise extraordinary. She actually has to put more effort into focusing than she lets on.

-Aradia: Telekinesis. The extent of her abilities is unclear, but she can definitely fling people around like rag dolls if she so desires. She can also feel the emotions of the dead, but that was an ability she possessed while still alive.

-Karkat: Compulsion. Whereas Vriska’s powers are based on suggestion and manipulation, Karkat’s do not have a limitation on strength of will. He can issue commands to any ordinary human, including making them forget specific memories. He would not be able to command Rose or Roxy, who were inherently supernatural. Additionally, the complexity of his commands is more limited than Vriska’s potential orders, and he cannot sense his subject’s thoughts.

-Dirk and Dave: Speed. Their reaction times are correspondingly enhanced to match this power, and even other vampires would be hard pressed to fend off a calculated assault from either of the Striders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apr. 19, 2015 EDIT: Added a description of Gamzee's ability.


End file.
